Monster Under The Mountain
by The Great Omen
Summary: My current life started in an egg deep under Mount Silver. Thrown into a new world without any explanation or exposition from whichever higher being decided to have fun at my expense. My story is not the story of a fairy tale hero who cares about saving the world from criminal organizations or evil, I'm a Monster. SI/OC-insert as a Pokemon, care to guess which one?
1. Chapter 1 - Hatching

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon, other than various copies of games spanning several generations of handheld consoles. The Rights are owned by the Pokémon Company.**

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**Long time reader, first time writer. **

**I decided to give writing a go. **

**Why not contribute to the site and community that has been there for me and seen me through the ups and downs of my life for several years now?**

**The start is slow going and any proper action is still chapters away. **

**The idea came from the question: If you woke up as a hobbit, dwarf or elf, in a caved-in part of a tunnel deep in the Mines of Moria, how would you know you were in Tolkien's Middle-Earth?**

* * *

_Instincts, nature over nurture; they should seemingly be easier to control and manage when one is born with an already disciplined adult mind in the driver seat. __Where does the metaphysical concept of consciousness __meet__ the tangible physical body with its biological functions?_

_The confirmation of the much debated existence of there being such a thing as a soul is a soft blow to the ego of an agnostic ex-human._

_Eating should at some point make me start to feel full, where does it all go?_

_I think therefore I am… what the hell am I?_

_Is that rumble coming from my stomach or am I no longer alone in here?_

_You'd think being deprived of the open sky, the sun and the moon, actual bloody daylight, would drive someone insane. Might be too late...am I even sane?_

_Hum-hum-hum... Is this the real life, is this just fantasy, caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.._

These are some of the things I ruminate and muse on in the quiet lucid times in between sleeping and stuffing my face with various substances of what I can only deduce is different forms of earth. Rocks, sediment, sand, clay, organic matter and several different kinds of minerals I couldn't even begin to name. The sheer volume and mass I consume in a "sitting" is staggering. Every differing mouthful compels me onward to the next, prodding me toward ingesting those which I instinctively know I need more of to grow and survive.

There is always a subconscious focus on _growing_; growth in size, growth in capability and growth directed toward an ethereal concept that thrums to the tune of the geological and tectonic shifts of POWER that I feel all around me.

Instincts relay my orientation and elevation in the earth, knowing that I am currently buried under what I can only surmise to be a highly elevated mountainous area. Up at an angle of 72 degrees leads up to the surface, down to the left is where I'll find bedrock and the right wall is firmer and easier to eat from than the one behind me.

Apropos bedrock, I have found the tools nature blessed me with are easily able to turn solid bedrock into a fine mix of gravely chunks and rock dust. They also allow my senses to lead me to the soil that provides me with relatively minuscule, but vital, amounts of moisture. Underground levels of water was never a thing I had put much thought into before, yet with this new life an awareness of water came programmed into my very being.

This kind of instinct is also what stops me from eating my way into the caverns, my mental map might as well have a big red sign proclaiming 'here be dragons'. No going there, yet. This primal existence might be excruciatingly monotonous, but I do not yet feel willing or ready to risk my new life for the sake of alleviating boredom.

* * *

My old life ended at the natural conclusion of a series of events that combine poor decision-making, a turn of bad luck and global climate change.

27 years old and in the prime of my life; my last accomplishment was running a winter marathon on a lake in Finland in nothing but my shorts and cleated running shoes.

That may sound absurd and impossible, which is exactly what I thought before my job as a freelance journalist led me to meet and interview an interesting Dutchman that claimed he could consciously influence and regulate his autonomic nervous system and immune response through simple breathing exercises, what amounted to a form of meditation with an element of the classic 'mind over matter' philosophy.

Following our first interview the idea of a second story documenting 'My week as a student of The Iceman and what his method can do for everyone' was already being arranged. So after a one-week seminar/retreat of coaching and training, I accompanied him on a days run up a chilly mountain in Poland, braving the nippy windchill added to sub-zero temps only clad in shorts and shoes, a sort of graduation in the school of 'I have no fear or concern for hypothermia or frostbite.'

This experience basically changed my life.

Before then, I always had a tendency to find the next new exciting thing and focus all my time and attention on that singular subject, eventually lose interest and go off to find something else. This more or less permeated through most aspects of my young adult life; school, relationships, jobs, hobbies... I suppose I was a bit flighty.

This was my 'born again' moment, I looked at the world with new eyes. I felt confident enough to continue on my own personal journey in defying conventional wisdom.

While I never stopped playing the occasional weekend football or going to the climbing gym, after my first time conquering a mountain while suffering at the hands of the elements, my focus shifted towards whichever new feat of endurance would test my fortitude.

The next four years were an ever escalating self-imposed quest to master myself and pit myself against the elements. The exercises, moving meditation and conscious regulatory control of my breathing and blood flow, became something innate in my day to day life.

Taking a cold shower, just because. Getting a thrill out of taking short swims in freezing seawater to shock and impress strangers on the shore, 'cause why not?

Competing against others was boring, but triumphing against nature? That's Epic.

No other opponents than myself and the environment.

Yes, evidently I was developing a bit of an ego and becoming increasingly arrogant, admittedly not without reason.

I gradually started increasing the frequency and severity of my feats of endurance; long distance swims and dives in cold seawater, running and mountain climbing in winter. Ironically it wasn't running a winter marathon (in Finland, in the arctic, in February, by myself, wearing only shorts...) that directly brought about my shuffle off this mortal coil.

It happened four days later as I was driving southwards through northern Finland, I was a bit delayed and had to do a 18 hour drive in one go to make it to my flight home to London out of the airport in Helsinki.

I had been staying nearly two weeks at a camping spot where I rented a small rustic cabin that could just about fit one person comfortably. There was a sooty old wood stove that easily held the temperature at an uncomfortable sweaty 30 degrees. This naturally meant no electricity or running water and doing my business at an outhouse. No electricity meant that my phone battery died after a week and thus I had no access to the news, or more critically the weather forecast.

My car was a rental that was affordable, on the ride north the radio died but there were no other signs of the electrical systems being in bad condition. It foreshadowed the situation I'd find myself in two weeks later.

It wasn't until the return trip that the heater went the way of the dodo, the radio was on-again/off-again (and in Finnish, which I sadly was not a speaker of), the headlights were stuck on low and the blinkers and tail lights stopped functioning at all.

An inconvenient sum of bad fortune (or bad planning) resulted in my near total lack of concern for, or knowledge of, the forecasted change in the arctic jet stream which would bring a snowstorm and temperatures down into the low forties (Celsius). The polar vortex was about to put an end to my flaunting of the natural order; where one man on his own conquers winter and doesn't end up as a man-cicle.

Long story short, I drove straight into and got stuck in a blizzard.

It was a conceited show of vanity to not be more concerned about driving a metal box, poorly insulated and with no heating, right into the heart of a blizzard. _'Surely my mind mojo is strong enough and has prepared me for sitting trapped in a tiny freezer...'_

Instead of stopping to knock on a stranger's door to beg for shelter, I drove until my car got stuck on a snowed down road, that plus a faulty heater brought about a somewhat ironic end to my life.

Funny thing about freezing to death; first you get cold and go through unrelenting shivering and chattering teeth all the while you slowly become increasingly delirious as your body temperature goes down into the stages of hypothermia and finally before the end... there's warmth. Warmth that had me taking off my last protections against the cold; my hideously expensive down jacket, a thick woolly scarf, a tacky beaver-fur hat and a brand-new pair of mittens.

Moral lesson learned; know the limits of any method or teachings you devote your life to, if you lose an inch nature will take a mile, and finally, don't cheap out on vital equipment when venturing into known hazardous conditions.

Thus endeth the life of Hadrian Bertram Reunen.

* * *

I have amusedly taken to consider the event of bashing my horn through the top of my egg as my self assisted moment of birth. Well, technically the term would be "hatching".

My time in the egg was at best a muddled confusing transition from losing consciousness in the warmth of winter to my mind grasping and taking hold of the sensory awareness present in a newfangled body, cramped and trapped in a too small space and instinctively tensing to bust out to freedom with a level of violence no newborn should be capable of.

Interestingly, I was not immediately cognizant of the fact that my body was no longer identifiably human.

I do remember waking up in the dark, trapped in a small cavity in the earth, probably a part of a collapsed tunnel or cave, all alone and soooo hungry.

Finding myself trapped in an entirely new small space didn't bother me, a part of me resonated with the concept that I was the sole occupant and owner of a marvellous pitch dark hole I could call my nest. It took a while for me to notice that I was living in pitch darkness and not actually blind.

During the first days smell, taste and hunger dominated my sensory input and ensuing activity. I suppose those are instrumental to encourage a hatchling/newborn, whichever species they may be, in obtaining the required sustenance to further develop and survive. Quite similar to the reflexes and instinct of a newborn human, reflexes like rooting, sucking, grasping and so on.

The big difference in this second life is that instead of being caringly held and breastfed, I was alone and in no need of assistance concerning feeding myself. I completely skipped teething and proceeded right on to solid foods only minutes after escaping the egg, the eggshell was perhaps the first thing ingested in the post-hatching feeding frenzy.

The days and weeks that followed had me generally so devoted to filling the void inside me that no energy was left over for anything remotely cerebral. Why waste energy on thinking more than is needed, higher thought is a luxury when the energy returned on energy invested is too low.

After a couple of weeks I grew and developed past the newly hatched stage and became big enough that at that point my rate of consumption supported some free time for simple rest and reflection.

During my more cognizant moments I found time to puzzle over the body I have found myself inhabiting.

There is a current of pulsing energy in this form unlike anything I previously experienced as a human. A well of energy that is most likely the reason I am subconsciously aware of the state of the surrounding earth and stone, as if it's an integral part of my senses.

The body itself is unlike any regular animal I can remember learning about. I know I'm not mammalian, there are features that could be considered reptilian traits, and my feeding habits are reminiscent of an insect larva if you replace plant matter or flesh with soil and rocks. It is more along the lines of some mythological creatures found in folklore, fiction and film.

A short-snouted head sitting on top of a compact torso with four powerful stubby limbs. The arms seemingly have no claws and then there are the two unfamiliarly shaped bipedal legs with a single claw on each foot. A short spiky conical plated tail and a relatively hefty horn on the top of my head.

My hide is covered with rocky scales which are strong enough to grind away at the surrounding rocks, if I am so inclined.

The most unfamiliar and exotic part of my anatomy are several pairs of holes along my torso, as far as I can figure they serve as the primary alternative for taking in air or what little there is of other gases deep under the surface. Am I actually breathing any substantial amount of oxygen or does my new biology make breathing, in the usual sense, optional? I'm edging towards_ 'Dunno, magic?'._

I'm not sure how the holes are connected to my lungs, if I even have lungs or any other human-like internal organs. I seriously doubt my digestive system in any way functions like a human one, nutrients seem to go directly to physical growth while most of the mass goes on to be converted and stored in my internal energy storage, instead of being added as fat to my body. Very little is wasted considering the sizes of my droppings.

Considering my massive food intake, it is especially useful being able to breathe and eat at the same time.

Underlying all of these observations is the certainty that this little body is too strong, it is unnaturally hardy and capable of feats of strength that would've terrified me if not for the mental changes that came along with the package.

I am noticeably duller, not that I am mindless or dopey, but long term planning is far out of reach in my current capacity. To make up for these deficiencies my teeny widdle baby brain came included with a metaphorical fortress, with unshakeable foundations, equipping me with an adamant resolve and self-confidence that is the mental equivalent of my supernatural hardy physique.

Included in that package were all the instincts my species are naturally equipped with, which along with my unbending willpower mostly make up for any reduced smarts or previous fear of the dark.

What I have come to realize is that the old memories of my past life are slowly being buried under new memories that are filled with the influx of increased sensory information flagged as 'currently more important'. I suspect my infant mind prioritizes and puts more import in the 'here and now' rather than 'a past that practically never was'.

My past-life memories are buried by the urges of a developing brain working to expand and grow in metaphysical directions that are distinctly non-human. I am transforming from mentally being an adult human to being a precocious young mind in the rapidly maturing body of some sort of fantasy dinosaur creature.

* * *

\- Many years later -

Time passes strangely in this primal new existence.

To a young mind, hours seem like days, months like years. With no outside social stimulation my mind was left to introspection, self reflection, bouts of childish fantasies and occasional tantrums.

I have become quite familiar with the mysterious energy I was so puzzled by. Playing with it has become my main pastime and has as a result become something I use regularly in my day to day activities to reinforce my body and, when pushed outside my body, to solidify and stabilize the walls and ceiling in my nest and the tunnels close-by. It has increased steadily as I've grown older and exerted myself in my daily play sessions.

Yes, that's right, play sessions.

I've unquestionably become more childish, with everything that implies...

When my appetite is sated and my energy levels are high, I do what most kids do when hyper and left to their own devices; dig for imagined 'treasure', collect rocks for my 'hoard', having races through my tunnels, talking to Mr. Bauta (my pet boulder and imaginary best friend), building 'secret' bases, pretend-battling 'bad guys' - alternatively fighting the 'good guys', sing to myself (read _screeching and cute mini-roars_), throwing rocks, blowing jets of air out of my torso-holes and sometimes having fits of rage that ends up thrashing my surroundings... often causing the tunnel to collapse on top of me.

The time I don't spend sleeping in my nest or playing/training is used steadily expanding my network of tunnels and rooms, which are hollowed out as a consequence of my massive appetite. The structural integrity is on the whole quite poor, but periodically allowing older tunnels to collapse is a nice way of keeping a partially refilling 'larder' closer to my nest.

I've largely been unable to notice any minute changes my body has gone through as I've grown, except the most obvious one; my size has probably increased threefold since hatching.

This is, of course, guesswork. I have no real way to measure and quantify neither height nor weight and evaluating my increase in physical abilities can be summed up as 'I can do more - longer'.

I have seemingly passed a threshold; my appetite has noticeably diminished over the span of the last week, I have become increasingly lethargic and my body appears to be anticipating and preparing for something to happen…. _wait, do I hibernate? ***Snore***_

* * *

**Looking back on my early life; no parental authority, no form of social contact to ingrain such things as empathy... it might be the root of my ****impudent nature as an adult. **

**I am partial to always having it my way, no matter the circumstance or conflict required to make it so.**

"**You are in my territory, this mountain is mine… when was it **_**ever**_ **YOUR mountain? You own it? Well, it's ideal for the new nest that I'm building, so now it's mine. And your riches as well… they're going into my hoard now. Now would you kindly GET THE HELL OFF MY MOUNTAIN! *STONE EDGE* "**

**If mild savagery doesn't solve the problem, there are always ways to make the stick bigger. I unfailingly manage to find a bigger stick. *GIGA IMPACT***

**Violence isn't always the answer, unless the question is stupid or I'm feeling disagreeable. **

**Don't get me wrong, I do have a sense of empathy... I just seldomly choose to use it, so it has understandably withered a bit. **

**If that makes me a monster, then I'll gladly take that title as my own.**

**I'm the Monster under the Mountain.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Get it?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. The Rights are owned by the Pokémon Company.**

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**Thank you, Readers & Reviewers for Follows & Favourites.**

**For someone quite new as a writer, you make writing more enjoyable. **

**It's about not only writing for yourself.**

**Peace.**

* * *

After a lengthy sleep I usually wake up kind of groggy, food being the first thing on my mind. This time however, there is no grogginess and no gnawing hunger, there is a new kind of clarity that I can't remember approaching since being human.

That is a clue right there, I now can faintly remember what life was like before the egg.

This can't have been regular nap, no regular nap makes you feel as if it expanded your headspace. There is a new facet of myself already being revealed, I no longer have that simple childlike single-mindedness with blinders for everything not food, play or sleep.

Instead there are new instinctual desires coming to the fore, eating suddenly doesn't feel as important.

As I slept my dreams were of old memories of my human life, as I woke up they slowly started drifting into the back of my waking mind; not everything is there, but I can more or less remember some basic day to day stuff; I'm quite certain my name was Hardram, floating around are some book titles, snippets of funny TV-shows and movies, I remember standing behind a counter serving drinks and talking to familiar faces of people I can't place, I recall having a dog or reading about a dog, I liked dogs and I must have read a great deal.

It's ironic and fitting that a book title I remember is "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?"

I think it fits my situation: What do fantasy dinosaur creatures dream of? Their past life.

* * *

Taking inventory of myself actually causes a brief moment of alarm, I can no longer feel my arms, I am trapped inside a cocoon that has expanded and grown out of my hide, the rocky scales covering my body have fused into a shell-like configuration, underneath the shell my hide has thickened and I can feel the internal flexing of a new sub-dermal layer of hard muscles on top of an enlarged skeleton that has grown to twice its previous size. Parts of my plated tail must have curled back up around my lower body, as it has been included into the growth of the shell.

One could hope that the sensation of having all your limbs immobile and tucked in a shell was all there was to it, but on the inside there is a constant prickly ache that tells me that the outer transformation is only there to make the major internal changes take place in safety.

What I'm left with is that I can wiggle the tips of what used to be the clawed part of my feet, that combined with a back heavy centre of gravity allows me to balance on the lower front of my cocoon. The totality is a body that on the whole is inflexible and presumably very durable.

The sensation of my skin has always been quite muted, but with a thick shell it has become even more so as I can't actually feel myself in contact with the ground.

My head feels like it has been positioned to fit into the front of the shell, while my spine has stretched and grown in both length and thickness. What little there is left exposed of my face feels the air flowing and circulating through holes that seem conveniently placed for preserving my hitherto never before used eyesight. My horn must have been included and become mostly enveloped into the crown of my shell.

The only remotely familiar feeling is my breathing vents which have grown along with the rest of me, I feel it appropriate to upgrade their denotation from hole to vent on account of their increased size, making the term hole too modest.

I feel the intake points spread across my bulk have changed and spaced out to places so they cover a bigger axis of direction, added to new improved internal valves that open and close the openings on command. My control over them has increased along with a significant increased capability to inhale gasses into the enlarged internal chambers of my respiratory system, my so called lungs.

The summated diagnosis is that during my sleep I have gone through a metamorphosis, the transformation has robbed me of my mobility and lodged me in a shell.

It looks like the insect theory was partially correct, I am now a pseudo-pupa.

This seems eerily familiar, like there's something about this that tickles a memory from my past life.

With my physical transformation there has also been an upgrade in my instincts, the impulse to keep my head down and avoiding trouble has been moderated with a desire to explore.

I'm actually starting to feel a need to socialize, to go out and discover and experience something new, now that my instincts tell me my safety is assured.

I feel like a teenager again.

Isn't that a funny notion, I've just gone through puberty. '_You'll experience changes, things will grow in new places' _and all that rot.

But before I can do any of that I have to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to actually be able to move or dig in this new form.

* * *

-a few days later-

After spending a day experimenting I finally discovered that I can take a deep inhale, close the vents, compress the gasses in the chambers of my respiratory system and selectively open a few of the vents to produce a jet of compressed gas to propel myself in whichever direction I want.  
During regaining my mobility I noticed that compared to Mr. Bauta… '_that's so sickeningly childishly cute... and sad, did I mention that I had a really isolated upbringing?'_

Anyway, after comparing myself to my pet rock I seem to have doubled my earlier stature and girth, so many of the previously made tunnels will have to be expanded to accommodate my new size.

The problem I thought would leave me trapped in my nest; lacking limbs to actually dig myself a tunnel out of here, turns out to be little more than a challenge.  
While I previously used my energy to compact, strengthen and solidify the earth to keep my 'house' standing, so to speak, I now had to practice using it to directly control the earth and whatever amount of rocks that gets in the way.

The name of the game is; Soften, dissolve, harden, move, shift, push.

I have been practicing building tunnels by expanding old ones, but the most difficult application is flowing the earth around my body to achieve something approaching swimming.

Without getting too technical, the principle is: loosening what's ahead and using the soil behind to push.

Luckily my need to breathe is 'ehh, maybe'.  
Every time I take a massive inhale in preparation for moving through the tunnels I mentally recite 'You think that's air you're breathing now?', with emerging memories come pop-culture references.  
Whichever gas does the job, with the amount I can store in my 'lungs' I am effectively a ground-whale.

My transformation has increased the efficiency and lowered the expenditure of pushing the energy outside my body.  
Internally I seem to be refining the energy into something more concentrated, more potent, it is likely that the whole point of being a cocoon is using my energy internally to radically transform my larva body into something greater.

The thought of spending too much energy in my daily use did strike me. It's something I'm a little concerned about and may want to keep in mind.  
I don't want to spend the rest of my life as an armoured cocoon unable to eat and replenish my life energy until finally I die of starvation. Oh yes, didn't I mention the alarming lack of a mouth?  
I thought the allegory of puberty was fitting, but teenagers come out of puberty alive and they never risk staying pubescent for an undetermined length of time before dying from starvation.

Back on point, manipulating my environment has become much easier and cost efficient, hence I am ready to leave the nest. Not literally, I'm not leaving my nest, it's where I sleep, it's home, it's where I grew up. It's MINE!

Heh, add territorial to my list of mental developments. Hopefully hormones won't make me love-struck by the first female I come across... or moody. '_Emo-Pupa is not amused.'_

Having practiced my earth-power to the point that I'm confident that I won't strand myself somewhere along the way, I'm going to tunnel towards the cavities I dreaded as a hatchling.

Taking into consideration that even back when I was swaggering around my nest, all proud of my new physical abilities and amazed at my own power, digging towards the other caves instinctively set off the alarms of my survival-sense.  
In my new armoured form my danger-sense has settled into a reassuring sense of safety and I'm really starting to get cabin-fever, nest-fever, whatever.

As I jet my way through the tunnel to reach the closest point to the outside cave, I consider if I should skip building a tunnel to the opposite end of my side of the entrance, entering and exiting through the dirt walls shouldn't leave any tracks, you can never be too safe.  
The advantage of hopefully concealing the way back to my only safe area decides it.

Making 'secret bases' always was one of my favourite games, it seems as if I've been practicing for this moment for several years.

After reaching the room much faster than I would've been able to before my transformation, I quickly 'dive' into the wall and start my 'swim' towards the closest point of access I can sense leading to the outside cave.

I end up having to navigate a short distance around on account of running into a bunch of huge boulders at the halfway point, thus lengthening my trip.

* * *

-15 minutes of swimming through earth later-

The first impression as my head breaches the surface is that the outside is a place of discomfort.  
Living all my life in pitch darkness makes the negligible amounts of ambient light in my little entrance-nook briefly searing, my eyes sting as they are introduced to light for the first time. It takes me several minutes to acclimatize and adjust before taking in the first sight of the world outside my nest.

It shouldn't really be very interesting, it's just another cave, but the fact that it's the first cave I've seen with my own eyes, in either life, means that I take a minute just laying still and looking around at the walls.

Shades of grey colours the rocky surfaces, being able to see at all intimates that I have brilliant night vision.

Seems like I should count myself lucky to even find a way in here, while there are several places the floor and walls are earthy and I can easily pass through, most of the walls and roof are solid rock.  
There are signs all around that this tunnel has been dug out by something big, most likely a _BIT _bigger than me, which oddly annoys me.  
There are no immediate indications of life by sight alone, but from the sound of deep rumbling echoing through the tunnel there appears to be some activity going on somewhere else.

The first thing I do is make a cross shaped waymark to indicate the which wall leads back to my nest, X marks the spot, but I doubt there is anyone around who'll recognize the intention and go digging for treasure.

Next step is deciding which way to go, to the left or to the right.

While transforming and gaining a shell has muted the sensations I feel throughout the outside of my body, it is has increased my awareness and ability to perceive differences in airflow coming in through the vents along my shell. I detect a draft of air coming from the right, so that way probably leads to an opening somewhere along the way.

Trying to pinpoint the direction the sounds are coming from, on the other hand, is impossible. They seem to come from both sides and are at such a low frequency that their point of origin could be anywhere.

After a short moment of consideration I choose to slowly start heading down the right-side of the tunnel.

Despite my efforts in trying to keep my exploration stealthy, it quickly becomes evident that in my current form I'm not built to play ninja. Moving slowly and silently is just about impossible when your only way of locomotion is shooting out jets of highly pressurized gas.  
Some quick thinking and experimentation shortly has me underway riding a moving carpet of soft soil, while not completely silent the solution enables my scouting expedition to commence.

The next hour sees me going through a intermixed network of natural passages and ones that distinctly show signs of having been burrowed by different sized creatures.  
Where some are fairly straight and big enough for me to fit comfortably through, others range from decent-sized, mid-sized and into smaller openings that branch off into crawlspaces.  
Those from mid-sized and down are too small or narrow for me to easily traverse, so my expedition keeps to the 'main road'.

As I pass through intersections I leave marks in the openings leading back, the various tunnels all seem to be joining up and the floor of the big highway tunnel show fairly recent tracks; paw-prints and big furrows in the dirt indicate they are seeing frequent use.

While the draft is fairly constant, the echoes of steady rumbling seem to have come and gone to be replaced by the sounds of periodic dripping and running water.  
The changing acoustics and a slight rise in humidity suggest that I am nearing a sizeable open space containing a body of water, maybe a small underground lake.

The upcoming room must have some holes leading to the surface as the last turn, before the tunnel stretches out to meet the opening, has the light levels steadily increasing.

When I am just about to exit out from the tunnel into the big room, an audible 'krack' carries out across the water, followed by a high pitched screech that conveys surprise, anger and pain. I hurriedly slide to a stop, barely in time to stay shrouded in the shadowed entrance and get a brief glimpse of the general layout of the cavern.

Beams of light and trickles of water stream down from several openings in the ceiling, all around the ceiling is distinguished by a variety of stalactites, the room itself is roughly elliptical and is about as high as it is wide, lengthwise the room extends even further.

The lake takes up a bit more than two quarters of the room, it is surrounded by a rocky shoreline on the side facing the center and the backside ends at the cave wall featuring ledges of varying heights and sizes.

The ground is broken up the into a number of open areas surfaced with flat stone and dirt floors, chunky debri litters the floor from partially destroyed columns formed out of stalagmites and stalactites, most of which are still standing.

Hanging on the far wall is a curtain of green ivy, while parts of the floor are covered intermittently in moss and fungus.

On a natural stone platform by the centre of the shore I spot the cause of the disturbance of the otherwise tranquil atmosphere.

The increased light coming down into the room has given my world a sudden upgrade into colour-vision, bringing with it the sight of two creatures seconds away from visiting violence onto each other.

And I am about to get a ringside view, so I can't help but add a mental ring announcer-voice:

* * *

**\- _Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's contestants are….._ -**

**"_In the blue corner; standing upright on two legs is a blue creature with a duck-like bill and a red gem on its forehead that pulses with flashes of red light matched by its fierce-looking red eyes. Behind it is a muscular tail, wagging in excitement or is that nervous tension? __On closer inspection the top of its head has four spikes and, from what's visible, webbed hands with claws on each of its three fingers. The DUCK!"_**

**_..._**

**_"In the red corner; while not red, this hovering bat-like creature does have purple wings. From the back, the rest of its body looks blue and as it does a swerve to dodge a distortion in the air the front is revealed to mostly consist of a highly disproportionate mouth containing a set of four fangs and a purple tongue... __Finally, over the top of its mouth is a small pair of eyes and a set of tiny ears. The BAT!" _**

**_\- Leeeet's get reeeeady to RUUUMBLEEE!-_**

* * *

A tauntingly gleeful 'quack' sets off the clash as the Duck launches a beam of something that distorts the air.

The first shot fired start the two off on an fast, almost practiced, dance.

The Bat dodges ranged attacks that are a mix of near invisible warps followed by shots of water from the Duck's mouth, all the while the Bat returns fire with rays of hazy energy that the Duck nimbly jumps around to avoid.

As they exchange attacks they go from strafing from afar into close quarters to dish out physical strikes.

Bites and scratches are traded carelessly as the hostility from before heightens, as a result both adversaries take damage and while neither slows down both are starting to show signs of fatigue.

During the onslaught the Duck feints a scratch, then swiftly twists on its front foot and delivers a whipping smack with its tail across the eyes of the opponent.

Stunned, the Bat is unable to dodge the follow up point-blank flash of energy that shoots out of the gem on the Duck's forehead.

The Bat's ability to hover and not go sailing when struck is effectively disabled, it goes flying until it hits a column and crashes back down onto the mossy ground.

A series of 'quacks' reminiscent of laughter peals from the heavily breathing Duck as it gathers itself and prepares to reengage with its already recovering opponent.

Taking a solid stance, it draws a deep breath and starts a barrage of watery missiles that are so fast that the now airborne Bat has to duck behind the column it previously smashed into to take cover.

Seeing that his opponent is hiding, the Duck quickly maneuvers clockwise towards my hiding spot, just to discover that the Bat has disappeared from behind its cover into seemingly thin air.

Coincidentally this move positioned the Duck such that while the Bat was hidden from _its_ perspective, from _my_ outlook I could easily see it sneakily flying amongst the lower hanging stalactites, quickly gaining speed in preparation for a surprise-attack from behind.

In clear anger and frustration at losing sight of its quarry, the Duck launches into a tirade of 'quacks' that has the approaching bat abruptly flare its wings to abort the sneak attack, choosing instead to announce its presence by verbally retaliating.

Screeching heatedly, it punctuates with waves of brightly flickering projectiles shot from the beat of its wings, the Duck meanwhile has turned around and is still able to respond even while sustaining a belting of sparks that crackle and pop across its hide.

_**\- It's a draw? -**_

As the fight has gone on and the chatter between both intensified, the amounts of energy the two are throwing around linger and spread out into the environment like an invisible fog, it is only nearing the end of the fight that the first traces reach my whereabouts and the audible chirps, hissing, screeching, 'quacks', all go from animal-like sounds to something my mind interprets into speech.

Starting from the tirade, to the head-to-head that went from heated to contemptuous, my previously British understanding of spoken language translated the exchange into a pair of furious accented male voices.

**-Head-to-Head-**

"Come back and face me, you coward! Isn't that just fucking typical, what else are you good for than hiding or flying away? Fly! Fly! Fuck off back to whatever shit-hole you've shacked up in. Don't come back lo…"

The duck's tirade is abruptly interrupted from behind by the mouthy bat.

"YOU are calling ME a coward? Who's the one always running off to others to fix your messes? You're a useless yellow bellied pillock, too stupid to know which way the water's flowing and too bloody scared to dip your toe in to figure out!"

As the Bat shouts he punctuates his retort with swift sparks of energy, this obviously doesn't make the blue duck any calmer.

"That was not on me, you backstabbing bloodsucking bastard! That was YOUR fault!"

He lets out a frustrated growl before continuing into what seems like an old argument.

"If not for you, we'd have been half a forest away, but noooo, we had to wait until the poor widdle baby could grow a pair and handle daylight, when eve…"

"We'd have been fine waiting there if not for your whiny yammering, 'Ai ai ai, my migraine is getting worse, it's the stress...it must be the stress! AIAIAI' What did you think was go.."

"They wouldn't have found us if we left!"

"We'd been fine if you'd just SHUT UP!"

"You shut up!"

"No, you shut up!"

….and so on, it quickly devolved from rehashing an old argument into what was evidently familiar bickering which calmed the situation down from whatever happened previously to start the fight.

Finally they were just silently glaring at each other, something passed between them and they simultaneously turned to leave in opposite directions, ducky towards the lake and the big mouthed bat up into an opening high up on the wall hidden by a curtain of ivy on the far side of the cave.

Just before flying off the bat got in the last word.

"You might be blue now, but you'll always be a yellow bellied pillock!".

* * *

During the whole battle my mind has increasingly been giving me the 'tip of your tongue'-feeling, as if I should know that I'm experiencing something familiar or something significant. It persists as the pair of 'mons leave and I briefly take the time to reflect on some of the information gleaned from the confrontation and following argument...

'_They have apparently known each other for a long time, probably since before evolving from Zubat and Psyduck, judging by the insults flying back and forth_…'

***Cue record scratch sound effect***

'_Golduck vs Golbat, a battle, a __pokémon__ battle, that shot of water was a 'WATER GUN', pokémon are real… POKÉMON ARE REAL!?'_

Slowly the pieces of the puzzle, I didn't even know I was subconsciously solving, are pulled to the front of my mind.  
With every old memory unburied and retrieved, several related and loosely connected memories follow, fit together and start to fill in the blanks.

While I knew enough to know that I didn't know much about anything other than what I knew from playing the games as a kid... wait, what?  
Oh, great, now I've confused myself. Do I hurt myself in my confusion?

This is ridiculous, I'm in a game? Or is this the anime-verse?

There is nothing indicating that this is anything but real life. I'm not limited or protected by the constraints of game mechanics or the censoring in a kid-rated anime.

I can still remember playing the first release of Pokemon Yellow as a 8 year old in the late nineties, Pokemon Gold in the early noughties and the guilty pleasure of buying a handheld console and a copy of HeartGold in my late teens.  
Then there are the faint recollections of watching the Mewtwo movie and the first season of the anime, but those consist mostly of vague plotlines concerning clones and bits and pieces from the episodes where Ash got the other Kanto starters.

My general knowledge of all the different pokemon, abilities, typings and moves begins and stops at Johto. The HeartGold playthrough did introduce me to several new kinds of Pokemon from the following generations and I know that there was recently a new remake of Yellow on the Switch.

What stands out the most is that there are pokémon that can shoot beams of pure elemental energy, influence the weather... whip up sandstorms, summon heavy rain and call down thunder, clear the skies to decimate foes with enhanced blasts of fire, produce mini-tsunamis and then there those that can cause EARTHQUAKES.

Pokémon can destroy and rearrange the landscape, they are the equivalent of walking natural disasters.

Not to mention the unsettling real-world implications of ghost-types or being able to directly suck life energy out of others.

So to sum it all up:

\- I'm in a fictional world full of creatures, monsters, POCKET-monsters, with the destructive potential to inadvertently kill bystanders and wreak havoc on their surroundings.

\- I'm largely flying blind, mostly ignorant of anything outside of 4-move simulated battling and the storylines from the few games I've played.

\- The battle I've just seen suggests that the game's and anime's focus on monster-battles is a part of the natural order and in the context of taking place in a real world, the possibility of maiming and death is high.

* * *

If I'm going to survive this place I'm going to have to get the hell out of this cave and find my way to some kind of human civilization.  
There is strength in numbers, my chances of survival or escape are low if even a single monster thinks I'm trespassing or dinner, with any luck it'll be a group and they'll make it quick.  
A lone human doesn't stand a chance against any supernatural monster getting territorial.

Damn whichever higher being put me here, stranded alone in pitch darkness, left to hatch deep under a mountain...

...

Hatch… _'I'm such a fucking idiot.'_

I'm a pokémon, and have been ever since hatching presumably years ago.

One would think being a rock-scaled magical earth-bending dinosaur should set off some bells.

Now to be fair, before my evolution I was labouring under lowered mental capabilities and missing memories.  
I have literally and figuratively been living in the dark. It's only been a few days since I evolved and regained the memories to understand the context, so that's my excuse.

Now that I'm not completely in the dark, it doesn't even take a second to put my life in perspective and figure out what I'll end up as.

Lets see...

Born under a mountain, spent a few years as a larva with an enormous diet easily exaggerated to 'eating a whole mountain' (knowing what's coming, 'Eat Big to Get Big'), waking up cocooned in a shell equipped with a 'jet-mobility package'...

I'm gonna end up as a pseudo-legendary…

I'm gonna be a mini-Kaiju…

I'm going to be one of those walking natural disasters...

**...I'm gonna be a Tyranitar.**

* * *

Well, that's a few years away. For now I'm stuck as a Shellder…

Err, Pupitar…

HAH!

Even more proof that I'm not in a game, I evolved without a single battle. I can't remember which levels are needed for my line of evolution, but I'd guesstimate that I'd have to pass at least level 30 to become a Pupitar.

Then again, the whole basis for the leveling system is as a RPG game mechanic, which is made redundant by actually being made out of biology and not pixels and bits. It does bring a whole new meaning to gaining life experience.

The requirements for evolution, or maybe I should start using the more correct term metamorphosis, has to be a combination of genetics, age, diet, exercise and possibly mental development. In a game with no such advanced mechanics and a focus on battling, experience points won from fights function fine to balance gameplay and allow for progression.

...

The important thing to focus on is… I'm gonna be a TYRANITAR!

If there ever was something infuriating about playing the games, being unable to get a Larvitar until after the Elite Four was the thing that really got my goat. Being denied obtaining your favourite 'mon until the game is almost over is just not cricket.

Which begs the question, what are the chances that I'm currently under Mount Silver?

This place is a huge labyrinth of branching tunnels that could fit the entire game's map many times over. According to the games it should be crawling with high level pokémon, but considering how expansive the caves are, with presumably an ecosystem inhabited by a diverse population of pokémon species of various sizes, not having run into any yet might not be non-typical.

Then again that might just be me failing my spot-check rolls; '_To the inexperienced eye even a forest teeming with life may seem barren.'_

* * *

Minutes pass as I turn all my attention inwards during my internal ruminations.

Consequently when an astonished exclamation of "Holy shit, you're huge!" comes from nearly right in front of me, I reflexively shoot out a jet that sends me flying backwards down the tunnel I'd come from.

The last thing I see, before ricocheting off a wall and continuing around a corner, is a small teddy bear with an open-mouthed expression of shock and a following echo of, "Buh-Bye!"

* * *

**-A massive spiky form sits sloped on a rocky throne-**

** Yes, it took me a bit too long before I figured out my place in the multiverse.  
****And that's the first time I saw the ugly mug of who would turn out to be my first friend...**

**...not of the rock-type. Get it?  
****During my early years I like to describe myself as being grounded and thick as a rock. ****Get it?  
****Grounded, Rock? Get it?  
****I was thick, as a ROCK.  
****A slow tumbling boulder, slow, thick, GROUNDed… Get it?  
**

**I have since gained some brain-mass, lost a bit of my sensibilities and my outlook has somewhat DARKened. Get it? **

**Bwahahahah!**

**And Nibbs complains that I don't have a sense of humour, HAH!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Nibbs the Annoying

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. The Rights are owned by the Pokémon Company.**

* * *

**As I was writing parts of this chapter I was mentally spewing rainbows. **

**I'll take full responsibility, but I'm not sorry.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

I'm currently laying on my back for the first time since evolving. In my surprise I seem to have overpowered the jet that caused my sudden 'exit... stage back'.  
Considering that I more or less bounced seven times, bleeding off speed every time I hit a wall or the floor, I'm quite sure I've ended up in a different tunnel than the one leading back to my nest.

I guess this is the faster way to explore.  
Not stealthy; rock-shell meets rock wall and voila; a grating racket me as a human teenager would be proud of. "But daaad, it's the hip new music, Rock'n'roll." ...if I grew up in the 60's.

Getting turned back to my front is easy, I'm not a tortoise, a small burst has me back to seeing the floor and allows me to witness the trail of scratch-marks, dents and small craters leading back to the room with the lake. So no worries about having to search my way back to go looking for the bear that set me off.

On the way back I try to increase the speed of my 'moving carpet' mode of transportation, not being too concerned about stealth, I'm quickly cruising along and arriving back at my launch-point in a rocky minute.

In the time it's taken me to recover and return the bear seems to have skedaddled, due to the well-trafficked ground in and around the entrance trying to track the small bear down is more or less guesswork. Reasoning that if he'd followed me I'd have run into him, I can only surmise that wherever he went was either further into the big cave or out some other entrance.

Taking a closer look around the cave does reveal three entrances scattered along the walls that I obviously must have missed in my brief inspection preceding the grudge-match between 'Ducky' and 'Big Mouth'.  
Seeing as the room is barren, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume he went through the closest one.  
'When in doubt, go simple.' Ain't that a quaint little perversion of Occam's Razor.

I'm not certain how fast the little bugger is, but if I put my pedal down I should at least catch up if he _did_ go down the arbitrarily chosen tunnel.  
Then again, he could be 'smarter than the average bear' and expect me to come running… jetting? ...jetting after him. I'll compromise and do a controlled launch across the room and go into light-stealth mode afterwards.

After a brief flight that I am sad to say I misjudged; should have considered the amount of force required to launch something as heavy as me across the entire distance spanning from entrance A to entrance B.  
I was able to do it, but I cracked the wall behind me and stuck the landing by smashing into the opposing wall. I don't think I'm made to be subtle or silent.  
I actually enjoyed that quite a bit, but clearly 'a flying type I am not'.

After taking a glance around to see if anyone witnessed my 'totally on purpose, I meant to do that' landing, I carefully make my way silently into the tunnel to pursue my quarry. I briefly pause as a rumbling echo passes me by from the direction of the opening. "Huh, strange." And then I'm on my way.

* * *

Well, at least I chose the right tunnel...

Trailing what looks like paw-prints I'm soon at a fork where the tunnel divides into three separate tunnels heading off in three different directions, not even considering the others I continue following the faint tracks leading down the tunnel to the left.  
After several minutes I come upon yet another intersection, this time again with three additional openings, where a near identical set of paw-prints cross over the ones I am already following.

I can't tell if the ones I'm following or the new set are from two different 'mon.  
I can't rule out that there are several different cubs walking around, even if that seriously reeks of lackadaisical parenting... or maybe reckless curiosity and running off on their own is something all Ursaring parents have to deal with. Ah, that's the name of the 'mon I'm looking for; Ursa, Teddiursa.

Seeing that out of the three openings the one straight ahead contains the tracks I have already been following, I naturally keep going straight.

At this point I haven't run across any of the smaller types of tunnels I passed on the way from my nest to the room with the underground lake. Upon reaching a _third_ conjunction of tunnels, that changed.

This intersection opens up into a room.  
At the far side there are two different sized tunnels continuing straight forward at an angle away from each other.  
On the left there's a small tunnel that seems to be heading back in the direction I'd just come from.  
To the right the tunnel continues up at an incline I can tell will either lead higher up inside the mountain or up to the surface.

*Eye twitch*

I should have known, the tracks go down the small tunnel that presumably loops back around to the intersection with the crossing paw-prints. Maybe he's not too reckless after all.  
He _did_ know I'd be following. Yogi has me impressed.

I decide to make up for lost time and risk a bit more noise. With a flux of energy and a flex of willpower I affix my travel-carpet underneath my shell (to reduce some friction and to cushion impacts with the floor) and release a series of brief jets that quickly has me back at the waypoint to continue my hunt. Yes, it is now a hunt. I'm annoyed.

Having slowed down again to what suddenly seems like a crawl (jets are wicked!) I am finally able to pick up some signs of being close to catching up, echoes of gravelly hissing and growls of a timbre I recognise from a echoing "Buh-Bye!".

I'm quickly approaching a scene that by the tone sounds like some kind of altercation or argument. This is kind of becoming a trend. Except this time I might have to get involved.

Jetting forward I come upon a small room with two tunnels, which one leads to my target?

I have to make a blink decision; left or right, shoot down the big tunnel I'll easily fit through or slow down for the smaller one that I might get stuck in… that has paw-prints going into it!

* * *

Aaaaand I'm stuck...

...I barely fit through the opening and down into the first part of the tunnel, but the bend… not so much.

I'm wedged in between two dirt walls that more or less absorbed the sound of my not so gradual stop. Though, it did turn out to be the right tunnel.

Just around the bend I can see the tiny form of a Teddiursa halfway encircled by a relatively huge jagged-edged rock-snake. Gravelly hissing equals Onix, big surprise!  
Now that I'm close enough I can feel the pressure of the Onix's energy pushing outwards in intimidation, as it towers over the glaring cub I hear the high-pitched hiss turn into speech.

"...ssstamp you into the ground, little bear. Ozzz owns this place now. Don't go get in his way."

Stretching his neck back attempting to comically stare the onix down, the teddy lets off an angrily puzzled growl, "Who the hell is Oz? Hey! I'm not little!"

"Ozzz be big! Oz be strong! Take over this place. You in the way, flatten little bear, stamp you into the ground!"

Well, that's more than mildly threatening… and explains nothing.

Seems like Yogi agrees, "That doesn't answer anything, you moron! And I'm not little! Who's Oz, huh? You gonna tell me? Do I hafta walk you through it? WHO. THE. HELL. IS. OZ!?"

The Teddiursa is not backing down, he's actually planting his feet and looks ready to jump right into the face of the Onix.

I can see where this is going, in anticipation I begin drawing a deep breath.

Which is fortunate since in lieu of an answer the Onix raises its tail and goes through with the previous threat.

With a grunt the bear jumps over the incoming tail and continues up with splayed claws ready to swipe across the face of the rock snake… only to reach the peak of his jump with over a foot to go.

Well, at least he's got spunk. The Onix, though, isn't as impressed as I am.

As the little bear cub is falling back down from his impotent attack the rock snake has rapidly drawn back its tail and is tensing up for a repeat with an even more powerful slam attack.

Ok, that's it. I'm not about to stay wedged watching the murder of a child.

My deep breath from before has gone into my lungs and been compressed to the point that I can feel the straining of all the muscles that keep my valves shut.

I'm locked and loaded. I'm the payload and the tunnel is my barrel.

I open my two backwards facing vents.

* * *

I can only describe the result, because the next thing I know, I am laying on my back for the second time since my evolution and feeling a bit tenderized. I can hear a gravelly gurgle and an astonished babbling "OH MY LORD! THAT WAS SO AWESOME! I WAS ALL *OHNO* AND THEN THERE WAS *SWOOSH* AND *BLAM* AND HE GOT *KRAK*..."

A short jet has me back 'standing' so that I can witness the outcome of my daring rescue.  
Laying slung back gurgling against the wall of the room is the formerly formidable bully in the form of a rock snake, now sporting a small crack running down the side of its head.

Judging by the tilt of the opening I missed the tail I was 'aiming' for, luckily missed the 'more excitable than the average bear' Teddiursa and managed to nail the dunderhead… in the head. If he had a hard time reciting the Onix-alphabet before, then I don't think I did him any favours.

The bear is waving his arms and is still babbling, but I can no longer understand him.

ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ

_'I never knew that bears can make 'Cooing' sounds and 'Yips'.'_

"Yip yip cooooo, yip! *A short wheezing sound accompanied by a grunt trailing off into a soft growl.* "

_'D'aawww, now he's sitting on his bottom with his feet splayed out, looking up at me in awe.'_

ʕ º ᴥ ºʔ

Finally he seems to have gathered himself. As he does I feel his energy reach out to me and form a link of what I can only describe as 'understanding'.

Its function is obvious, this is how Pokémon talk; they push their internal energy outside and interface with each other. By will and intention an effect is produced, in this case communication, understanding.

The fight between the Golduck and the Golbat introduced me to a bastardized version of it, I interfaced with their bled off energy and through my own understanding interpreted their communication as if through a one-way relay.  
I must have been too deep in thought and too surprised to have noticed him doing it earlier.

It can't be too hard. I should easily be able to produce a similar effect.

With my evolution refining and increasing the control gained through years of training as a Larvitar it should be no problem.

I try to mimic his method by drawing out the energy I normally use to control and shape the earth around me and then I push it towards him… hmm, maybe I have to push it _into_ him?

"Hello, what's your name? I've been looking all over for you, but I finally managed to track you down, eh? You gave me quite the scare back there in the lake-room."

Ohh, Oops… that's not good.

...

The Teddiursa looks to have gone pale, if that is even possibly visible through all that fur.

"No! Please! It wasn't me! Prey!? YOU WERE HUNTING ME? I'm sorry, please don't eat me! I didn't mean..! I'm so sorry! You're not huge! Not that you're small! "... now he's crying.

_'Jeez, now I feel bad. How the hell do I fix this…?'_

Let's try that again without pushing the energy INTO him.

Let our energies mingle…. try to _intend_ to be _understood._

Yes, let's try that again.

"Sorry I scared you there, little guy. You're the first other 'mon I've ever tried talking to."

'_It seems to be working… sniffles are better than crying, right?'_

"I was really worried there for awhile, that Onix looked like he really was about to hurt you."

'_...oh, good, he's daring to look at me again.'_

"I was really impressed with how you stood up the the snake, 'Who the hell is Oz?', Hahaha! You're a tough little guy, aren't you!"

'_Oh, he's back to looking terrified.' _

The bear goes from hiccuping and sniffles to panicking, "Don't tell my mom! I'm not allowed to swear!"

Finally the things I said to calm him down seem to truly register.

"Whaaat? You've never talked to anyone? Ever? I'm the first! That's SO COOL! I'm your first friend!"

'_Going a little fast there, fella.' _

"My name is Nibbs! Mom said it's because I was so cute that she just wanted to gobble me up, but I'm so tiny that I'd be just a nibble, I USED to be a nibble, now I'm BIG and strong and did you see me against that moron! And then suddenly *BAM* You were SO COOL! You really showed him, huh? I thought he was big, but you're HUGE! And TOUGH! And STRONG! Can we hang out? I usually go through here to get back to the den, I'm not allowed to bring any friends over, but maybe we can hang out at your den? I'm not allowed to go anywhere without telling mom so we'll have to ask her, do you know my mom? she's BIG, but not as big as you, I don't think I've EVER met anyone as big as you, ..."

'_Did someone give him sugar or something? Oh, right, Teddiursa and honey. His mom must have the patience of a saint! If I'm not going to get a word in edgewise, then I might as well see how long he can go on before he realizes I'm stuck just listening.'_

"….Wow! I bet mom hasn't never seen anyone as big as you before either, wait! You've been all alone until you met me! How did you get so HUGE without meeting anyone? Who taught you to... ooh! So that's why you went all *GRR* and, wait! You don't have a MOM!? If you wanna live here you can borrow my mom! Do you wanna see our den? OHH, you could live with us! With me and my mom! She could teach you everything, she still teaches me stuff, like when I didn't know how to swim, do you know how to swim? Are you even able to swim? Are you too heavy to float? Floating is the best!  
So… what's your name?"

'_Oh, Lord.'_

* * *

Taking a deep breath I try to keep my irritation at bay, while it is nice having my ego stroked… I AM cool and tough and strong and… I like this guy, he annoys the shit out of me though.

He's excitable and weird, going from staring up at me in awe and then crying, but now he's a fine mix between annoying and charming… Did he just use a bunch of moves on me?

Interfacing energy that carries intent. The same energy used to control _elements_ _of nature_!  
Of course it'd be possible to use it to influence the behaviour and emotional reaction of enemies and friends alike.

And what was my reaction? I became easygoing, just waiting for him to finish.

Or was it my intent that edged him on?  
I intended to let him continue until he ran out of air or realized he was talking to himself. It's like starting a conversation with someone and just going "Uh-huh" periodically, if you're talking to the right kind of person they'll just keep going on about themselves.

He got me good, though I'm not so sure he did it entirely consciously. It's probably some kind of natural self-defence mechanism.

...

I realize that this is a wonderful opportunity to gain some much desired information concerning this world, my part in it and more about my general whereabouts.

Only problem is that my people skills are rusty.

So how do I coax it out of him?

I figure I should try to establish some kind of bond, so why not go down the kid-friendly route proclaiming him to be my 'first friend'.

"My name is Hardram. Sure, I'd like to be friends. My first friend! We can totally hang out!"

Nibbs is back to being in awe. "That's a cool name! Is it because you ram into things, hard? Mom will love that! She says 'A name is a title describing something about you or about what you've done.' "

Must... not... be... sarcastic... "Yes, I'm called Hardram... because I ram into things... hard." ...It's a good try.

He's a kid, whatever information he has is either second hand, exaggerated or piecemeal.  
Let's find a more reliable source of information.

"SO! Hang out! Hanging out... I don't have a den, maybe we could hang out in yours?… and then you could introduce me to your mom!"

"Yeah, we can totally go to my den! My mom should be up by now, she's usually 'or-ne-rar-y' if I wake her up, but I've been gone for a long while, so she must've woken up!"

This will either go splendidly, or I'm going to walk in on a half asleep protective Mama Bear.

X.X

* * *

-30 minutes later-

Shite, I'm screwed.

It went about exactly as I feared.

I successfully convinced Nibbs to bring me along to his den. He eagerly said "Follow me" and skipped past the unconscious Onix towards the other exit, all the while continuing into a long one-sided conversation telling me about how awesome his den was, about all the best hiding spots along the way, how big of a stone he could lift, how he likes swimming because it's kinda like fishing "they're yummy but not like berries or honey or…" and on and on and on.

Finally we arrived at the entrance to his fabled den, an entrance too small for me to fit through.

Of course, wanting to impress and culture some hero-worship, I muster up an excited voice. "Wanna see something cool?" and push out a surge of energy to expand the opening, bringing me almost face to enraged face with a rapidly incoming protective Momma Ursaring.

I was taken so off guard that any thought of dodging didn't even occur.

The first blow sent me skidding backwards with a ringing head, the blow itself didn't exactly hurt but the concussive force shook my insides leaving me too confused to even notice the second blow of the ensuing beat-down. The savage trashing was compounded by an ear-splitting roar that would've have sent me running if I wasn't currently addled and being pummeled into a wall.

As the roar petered out I heard the call of my salvation, saved by the teddy bear.

"MOOOM, STOP! STOP BEATING MY FRIEND!" Which seems to have done the job.

Taking a glance at her cub, she gives a half snarl. "What friend? He was chasing you! And I can tell that you've been crying!" She turns her head back towards me. "Did you make my baby cry?"

I begin to wheeze out a "No, ma'am!" but immediately stop myself as I realize, yes, I did make her baby cry. I actually scared him far worse than that Onix did.  
I may have saved his life but during the course of it I probably left an emotional mark that'll stay with him for some time.  
So, tell the truth and hope for mercy or lie my ass off and rely on Nibbs being capable and willing to lie to his mother.

The last thought is like a strike of lightning against my mental fortress, easily brushed off but setting off an internal cry of fury.  
My ego, my morals, my very being is disgusted by the idea of lying. Lying is for the craven. Lying is for the worthless.  
I may have acted foolishly and without thought, but I can handle the consequences.  
I feel no concern in having potentially permanently brain-damaged the Onix, he was an enemy. He wasn't MINE.  
Lying about potentially traumatising the cub aggravates a dangerous part of my core self.  
I'm a bit confused, is HE mine?

Either way, I don't think Momma cares at the moment.

I let out a trickle of energy allowing it to mix with the suffocating pressure of the still furious Mother.

Intent and understanding.

I don't beg. I don't plead.

"I have been alone since my hatching and my first attempt at communication, conveying my intention and words, resulted in an misunderstanding. Having met Nibbs in the lake-room I hurried to catch up and came upon a confrontation where an Onix was about to crush him with its tail. I stepped in and put a stop to it. Afterwards I made a mistake, in my ignorance I was excessively emoting my anger and frustration at the preceding situation and failed to regulate my 'voice'."...

"That doesn't answer anything, you moron!"

'_Oh, I see where he gets it from.'_

"Ehh, yes, sorry, I didn't mean to. It was an accident?" She's really not looking too convinced.

Once again my new furry friend comes to the rescue.

Stepping up to his mother he hugs her left leg and adoringly looks up, seeking eye-contact, before beginning his side of the story in a calming manner in his usual rapid-fire approach at conversation.

"I went the water-way to go looking for mushrooms and then when I got there 'the last and the hopeful' were having a fight. So I snuck around to the side so not to get in the way and then I saw Hardram, that's him.." He stops and point my way. "And I says to him 'Wow, you're huge!' and then he runs away, so I decided I didn't want to eat any 'rooms cause I kinda wanted to go back home again."

'_Did his eyes just water? Wait, he left out the "Holy shit" part!'_

"As I was going home I heard a rumbly laughter, so I got curious and wanted to see what was funny…"

_'And the jabbering is back.' _

After a convoluted story of how he ended up in the coils of the Onix, he pauses to take a deep breath and scratches his nose with his left paw. "...then I said 'Who's Oz?' and he said that 'Oz is strong' and then I said 'That doesn't answer anything, you moron!'"

The tension in our little stretch of the tunnel has just gone up. The mother seems to be having a hard time not reacting, I suspect, with a facepalm.

Nibbs pauses and puffs his chest, taking the silence as approval. He continues. "So then he got mad and tried to flatten me! And then WOOSH! Hardram flew and cracked him REAL good! It was sooo COOL..."

He continues on to describe how I got all *GRR*, he is basically rehashing everything in a full on prattle with added sound effects.

Wonder for how long she'll let him go? Talk about nurturing bold behavior.

X.X

* * *

-15 minutes later-

"...so I shouted 'MOOOM, STOP! STOP BEATING MY FRIEND!"

Wow, she actually let him come all the way around. Seems she's taken the time to calm down.  
Instead of saying anything she silently pries Nibbs off her leg and pushes him towards the entrance of their den. He does so under quiet protest but clearly knows that it's non-negotiable.  
She doesn't seem as angry anymore, but as soon as the kid is away some of the anger returns.

She's taken a few steps towards me and settled into a neutral stance that's blocking the view to the entrance. While she's not right in my face, the tension is back.

Standing up on two legs she is three times the height and has a darker shade of fur compared to the teddiursa. Instead of having a bright moon crescent mark on the forehead such as Nibbs' she has a big bright ring on her torso. The cute little claws of the first evolution have been replaced by long claws that seem barely retractable. I've already experienced what those trunk-like arms felt like smashing over my crown, so I'm not especially keen on a repeat.

"I don't trust you. You're trouble, I can smell it on you. The arrogance! You're of the tyrants. Your kind seeks out conflict and leave nothing but wreckage behind. With your size that means the trouble and conflict will only be bigger. There were two of your ilk in the area several years ago, we were lucky, when the first left we only had to weather the passing rage of the one pursuing. "

For the first time in this life my heart skips and I feel a pang of longing before it quickly fades away without affecting more than my resolve to find out why I was left buried. I want to interrupt her to ask her for more information, but she is radiating a powerful presence that has an underlying expectation of me keeping my mouth shut and 'listen'.

"You will listen to and obey my rules! No putting crazy ideas in to my son's head. You will in no way endanger my son! You understand me?  
I'll allow visits as long as I'm around to supervise, if I see even a glimpse of malice from you I'll crack open that shell and that'll be the end of it.  
As long as you behave, you can come back. I know my Nibbs, he's grown attached and will clamp on to you and never let go."

She takes one step forward and sinks into a lower and somewhat warmer voice.

"I'll only allow it because you saved me the heartbreak of losing another cub."

Then she continues more casually.

"We will see how it goes.. He's had a long day, so now is a good time for you to leave. Come back tomorrow. You should be able to find your way back here."

She gives me a last look before turning around to go back to her den, only to stop and issue a commanding. "Now be a dear and fix my entrance."

X.X

* * *

As I wend my way back to my nest my head is overfilled with several thoughts warring for attention.

So many questions and so few answers. I've been presented with some answers but they only lead to more questions.

Of those concerning myself they mostly revolve around the situation around my egg.

Being placed in a dug out cavity clearly engineered to separate me from the outside until I was 'ready'. Who put me there? Was it my mother? If so, why? Was she the one being chased? By who? My father? The Ursaring said… Huh, I never got her name.  
Are there other eggs spread out like mine was? Did we all hatch at the same time or are there unhatched eggs spread throughout the mountain in collapsed or well-hidden passages?..

I arrive at the 'cleverly hidden' entry point and then quickly 'dive' in to return to my nest, still labouring under a mountain of questions raised that DON'T revolve around myself.  
Mama Bear said that she'd lost a cub before. What happened to it? Am I really a part of a mon' eat 'mon world? The Onix was claiming territory, is that a common point of conflict? Battling for territory to establish fiefdoms? Do they form coalitions or is it a game of King of the Mountain? I stick out, am I going to be considered a threat to be neutralized before I become a 'problem'? Will they try to chase me out or kill me?

As I settle down in the groove that marks my usual sleeping spot, where I woke up evolved a few days ago, the only thing my thoughts revolve around is what happened today;  
I saw my first pokémon battle, possibly killed an onix, made a friend and got handed my ass by a pissed off Mother. Against the onix I won by a brute force happenstance and against the onslaught of maternal protective instincts I was more than a little helpless.

While I have no reason to expect to be any good in a battle, fuck! My pride is stung.

I won't be powerless! I won't be driven off! I won't be knocked around by anyone! _I AM_ the one who knocks!

I need to learn how to fight!

X.X

* * *

**If I'd known the amount of trouble that Onix would turn out to be I probably would've finished the bastard off right then and there.  
****Would that have been craven? No, only practical. You don't leave an enemy at your back.**

**So that's how I got my first friend, it was either accepting his paw of friendship or break his heart.  
It'd be like kicking a puppy. An annoying chatterbox of a puppy, but a small glittery-eyed hero-worshiping puppy nonetheless…**

**'I dub thee, "Nibbs the Annoying". You're going into my hoard… if your mom allows it.'**

**Moms are scary, especially ursine ones.**


	4. Chapter 4 - Bear Necessities

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. The Rights are owned by the Pokémon Company.**

* * *

**If you peer a bit sideways you might see that this chapter slipped into bordering the Grimdark in places.**

**World-building took a glimpse into the abyss and the abyss glimpsed back.**

* * *

I wake up from a night of unruly sleep to find my sleeping spot disturbed. From where I fell asleep I've made a visible furrow across the room. Adding the fact that I don't feel well-rested to faint recollections of battling 'something'; I must have been dreaming and fighting in my sleep.

Having fallen asleep while brewing up a storm of seething anger at the humbling and helplessness I experienced that day must have set it off.

I draw in a breath to get up and moving, I'm surprised when I get only halfway before I feel the familiar feeling of resistance and compression. There's a sensation of already having filled my chambers and inside there's a buildup of energy. I immediately tense and let go of all the built up pressure. Instead of releasing a jet of pressurized gas my entire nest is enveloped in a blast of finely grained particles that are infused with my energy. I can feel and control the storm encircling me and every surface it touches is, like a radar, sending back its relative position around me.

Would you look at that. I learned sandstorm in my sleep.

I'm going to have to take a minute to think this through before playing around with it, because I can already feel the pull of keeping it up and active. After letting it go it stays up for a while except now I can no longer feel the radar-like effect.

Let's try that again with a different ratio, less sand and more air.

The resulting blast has a higher velocity but is less intense on the energy consumption, which I assume is because of the lowered mass of particulates that I am having to keep in motion.  
It's still drawing more energy than I am comfortable with considering I am unable to refill my energy stores.

Just out of curiosity I do one more test, this time with more matter and less air.

As I pass half full I already sense that this is not going to work, I'm starting to feel internally heavy, instead of staying granular the sand is being compacted by the internal pressure and rather than being charged up for release, the energy is infused into the solid mass which is now somehow holding a charge. To what end? I have no idea. With the amount of mass currently in my chambers I must have increased my weight by at least half of that from my normal 'empty' state.

While I purge my chambers following my experiment I imagine the possibilities.  
With a lot of training I can probably achieve something similar to circular breathing which would allow me to keep up an ever worsening sandstorm that'd only be limited by my energy reserves.  
My Pupitar-form is constantly working to increase the potency of my energy, simultaneously I am guessing that my physical growth and maturity will expand my reservoir into something frightful as I evolve into Tyranitar.

I imagine an opponent stuck inside a sandstorm that effectively renders them blind, the sound of millions of grains of sand rubbing against each other, feeling the sand scraping against their skin and being unable to breathe in fear of drowning in sand, knowing that they're in the presence of a Tyranitar that knows exactly where they are and can keep up the storm indefinitely. All the while the energy driving the storm exerts a constant pressure infused with dark intentions

...I'm metaphorically drooling.

Come to think of it, isn't that the ability it got when I played HeartGold? Tyranitar enters battle and automatically starts a sandstorm that 'coincidentally' boosts its special defense.

If I'm going to go around prepared to unleash a sandstorm I can see that contributing to the low speed stat that the Larvitar evolution line has in the games.

While I'm not agile as a Pupitar, I am fast considering my jets. But carrying up to half my weight in sand would slow me down in two regards; decreased thrust capacity combined with there being more mass to move. More mass, less gas to pressurize, weaker jets.

On the topic of mass... -ive, from the best of my knowledge the games indicate that I, as a Pupitar, should not tower over a full grown, fully evolved, Ursaring.  
The bear-cub could be understandably 'little' in comparison, but looking down on what is the counterpart of a Grizzly Bear is not something trivial.  
It might be that the games show a representation of an average individual of a species.  
I remember something remotely relevant in the anime; the tiny size of Ash's Crabby.  
Then at the other far end of the spectrum; the HUGE shadowy figure standing enveloped in mist by the side of a lighthouse, that I believe was a Dragonite.

So combine them and you get hints that in the 'Real Pokemon World', which is certainly not in a game or an anime, there are variations in size that are similar to what you find in the Animal Kingdom on the TRUE Earth, the REGULAR Earth, the NORMAL Earth... Crap.

So, reality check. I'm in a world with supernatural creatures. I AM a supernatural creature.  
Yet I'm thinking 'Real World' physics, in a world that is clearly supernatural, dare I even say it: MAGICAL.  
This internal energy; I don't know what it is, how it works or where it comes from, but I know how to use it and there is no way I am calling it magic... or PP.

Psshh, I'll keep calling it energy.

...

'This energy does things that shouldn't be possible' is my immediate response, which I suspect could limit my ability to fully reach my potential in this life. I felt it yesterday, regaining parts of my human mind has expanded my frame of reference to the point that it has drowned out some of my 'natural behaviour', my instincts, in this body.

My first thought after getting my Mama Bear Beat-Down was 'I don't want to get hit again' followed by 'I'm probably double her size and six times the weight and she sent me sliding!'.

Afterwards when I was back to being on my own I had stayed clear headed during my ruminations, but approaching my bedtime thoughts strayed increasingly towards my humbling and anger came to the fore. As I finally let my rational mind go into the arms of Morpheus; my dreams were of battle, fighting and conflict.

How much creature mentality will drip into the human before the human becomes a creature?

I'm doing a very human thing in overthinking this.

Let's just start my day as a Pupitar; I have an adorkable new friend to go visit and a mother that needs convincing that I'm trustworthy.

X.X

* * *

-6 months later-

Looking back, these months have been bittersweet. I got involved to the point where I was kind of a fixture in their little family's life. Several weeks of building up trust while 'playing' with Nibbs and trying to socialize with Mama Bear. Easier said than done when every little thing I did or said was put on the scale to judge if I was a bad influence or intentionally 'corrupting' Nibbs.

Horsing around (read: me acting as a play set) was OK. If a game got too close to anything reminiscent of adversarial roles or some of the stories about my activities outside of their little corner of the cave, we were quickly hemmed in.  
What I did get to do a lot was entertaining through manipulating the surroundings, like making waves along the floor, having a lump of dirt chasing after him or vice versa, later on I was even allowed to do soft launches where I'd send him flying across the room.

By the end of our first month of getting to know each other she finally stopped looking over my shoulder.

During my visits she started to engage me in conversations and enlisted me as a babysitter while dangling promises of information as a reward.

This lead to regular conversations about the realities of being a wild 'mon in a very real Poke-World, things considered common knowledge, basics of 'mon-vernacular that almost directly relate to 'customs' and some friendly introductions with those receptive within the local community.

As for my relationship with Nibbs, I went from being the exciting new friend to reluctant 'playmate' and babysitter whenever Mama Bear went out for some time to herself or for a hunt. Yes, hunt, more on that later.

We've had various adventures in and around the local 'Water-Way' district, which is supposedly safe if you ignore the incident with the Onix and occasional low-rate battles that never escalate anywhere close to lethal levels or cause too much of a disturbance (most don't want to aggravate Grumpy, no one appreciates a grumpy Grumpy).  
Out of all of the so called games we play his favourite is sitting on my shell while I go for a slow breeze through the known 'safe' passages to and from the surroundings of the lake-room.

I was 'allowed' to follow the mother and son up to the surface where I met and got introduced to the 'ruling' herd of Donphan and Phanpy. I thought they'd be the size of elephants from my old world but I didn't know I was so far off; they are tiny in comparison.

...

It was meeting the Donphan and comparing them to Mama Bear that narrowed down my size difference; if a Ursaring is circa the size of a Grizzly Bear standing upright at somewhere between 2.5 - 3.0 meters, the Donphan being a bit less than half that, then my size is probably at least 6 meters in length. Add in how girthy I am. That's insane.

...

I got to witness the meeting of the small fry; Nibbs tugging around a Phanpy, squabbling with 8 smallish Poliwag on the banks of the close-by river and laughably 'racing' a Ponyta. I had to watch from a distance since whenever I was nearby they'd be too nervous to actually do any playing. Though I was close enough that when an irritated Doduo got the idea to chase them off I just had to make my presence known to convince him otherwise.

...

Month by month I've seen the relatively rapid growth from a small teddy bear to an oddly proportioned bearling that has gone from boldly babbling to a more humorous gabbing that shows a slowly developing wit (that I'd like some credit for).

With the way I had been involved in his life you'd think from a human level that I'd fit into a big brother role, but as a 'mon I could never be placed in that kind of familial position, I had no place in their familial unit as that kind of adoption is not usual or proper between species.  
All kinds of categories are available concerning relations with your own and other species; friends, lovers, rivals, enemies, competitors, caregiver, leader, student, mentor... et cetera.

I'd like to think I inhabited their family zone as a friend of Nibbs and as a strange anomaly looked on with a certain fondness by Mama Bear.

His growth reached the point which Mama Bear intentionally had never divulged would be the time of their departure from the den. He'd grown enough that she saw him fit to roam outside the safety of a protected area like the established safe-zone around Grumpy's Water-Way.

Being suddenly told that they're leaving, without any sort of warning, was hurtful and made me more than a bit mad. I felt exploited. I'd invested a lot of time into establishing this relation and they're going to just fucking LEAVE?  
I didn't give much of an reaction outwards, but I could see that she'd sensed my anger. Luckily they left after a brief goodbye, before I could do something stupid and take out my anger in a way that'd upset Nibbs.

Nibbs reaction was more along the lines of; "We'll come back for visits and then you can see how BIG and STRONG I've become *wink*, I don't think we'll have a hard time finding you, you're not exactly easy to hide under a rock... or a mountain! See ya later, Hardram!"

During our time together Mama Bear made it clear that she would not entertain the thought of mentoring me in any way regarding combat, but as they were leaving she left me with some advice.

"If you want a mentor, a teacher, that'll teach you more than just the bare necessities, then go into the main deep tunnel going straight down from the surface entrance. At some point you should eventually come across an old body-sculptor that occasionally comes up the Water-Way, he is the sort to take pity on the uneducated. Be respectful and who knows? Now behave yourself and don't do anything stupid!"

Eventually come across. EVENTUALLY COME ACROSS?! What the hell kind of advice is that? How could she possibly know that they are somewhere down there?

Having an ask-around with my acquaintances around the water-way does result in the confirming answer of "Oh, yes. He comes around for a visit every now and again, he lives down deep, you know?"

So existence and direction confirmed.

*Sigh*

* * *

-Rules of Society-

So what am I left with after their departure?

Some information was kept out of reach; Mama Bear refused to discuss or reveal anything more about what could potentially be my parents, if there had been other traces or rumors about my species (like other potential hatchlings) or where I'd find anyone else of my line.

What she did do was equipping me for striking out on my own. I now have the knowledge to stay within the limits of what is socially acceptable behaviour in civil "society".  
I call it that, society, but it's really not comparable to what I was a part of as a human.

Pokemon aren't human, while all of them are in most ways sentient (be conscious, responsive and present), not all of them are fully sapient (being able to think and reason, act with wisdom), this mix of higher and lower thinking is the foundation for a social system that is divided by 'intention'. Do they intend to do you harm or not?

The guidelines were laid out in a no nonsense little speech:  
"Live and let live, I have no intention of getting up in your business unless you do something that makes it MY business. Maybe if you scratch my back I'll scratch yours. If someone or something comes along to disturb the status quo we might band together and put a stop to it.  
Of course, if someone can't back up their end with force they are the ones that have to make allowances towards the ones more powerful in the pecking order, but goodwill goes a long way."

Sounds simple and reasonable. But realize that these are the rules of 'civilized' society. Places that are afforded these rules and guidelines by their, if not benevolent then at worst indifferent, 'Ruler'.

My earlier hypothesis on owning territory turned out to be fairly on the nose. The closest parallel in human history is a form of feudalism. With some exceptions like the ruling 'herd' of Donphan who are more along the lines of a tribe owning tribal-land or nomadic tribes that migrate and move territory.

Fiefdoms ruled by 'Lords and Ladies' that are at comparably Champion level, somewhere in the league of the 'mon owned by the Elite Four in the games. Actually, that's a good gender neutral term, so from now on I'll call the 'Rulers' Champions.

Anyway, they own territory and if they are 'nice' they shelter and allow 'societies' to live under their umbrella of protection.

Then there are those that will either chase away anything that enters their territory or, maybe worse, those that bring with them minions that exercise their authority by association, malevolent dictators that subjugate and terrorize those 'beneath' them.

That's not to say that ALL Champions have absolute control over their area, but they exist as a 'nuclear threat' that nobody sensible (weaker) would want to set off.

This allows them to dictate the living parameters and what is acceptable behaviour:

\- Are mon' divided into a class system based on their species or is everyone treated according to their merits?  
\- Sanctioned fighting, total non-violence or somewhere in between?  
\- Which food sources are available, allowed, and who has first pick?  
\- Do they demand tribute to extend their protection?

...I could go on

Keyword in both cases is DICTATOR. ...Maybe someday the whole of Mount Silver will have an oxymoronic benevolent Tyrant.

* * *

I have yet to find out if there ever are occurrences of aggressive expansion, war, invasions that rely on the organisation of 'armies'. The whole foundation of the territory system seems for the most part to focus on the power of the individual, not so much power in numbers. Though there are partial exceptions like herds, these still do have powerful individuals as leaders, they're not democracies.

I'm not sure if that is a result of the differences between the mentality of Pokémon and humans, but it does keep conflicts closer to the individual level rather than 'leaders' sitting secure far into their own territory while sending their subordinates to die.

I think I remember a quote that says something similar to "War is young men dying and old men talking."

* * *

-Grumpy's Water-Way. The Doorstep to the Deep-

Around the watering hole and territory that colloquially is called 'The Water-Way', or my private designation 'The Lake-Room', the ruling Champion is an old Gyarados that has mellowed quite a bit in his old age. He is at the level that very few would ever consider disagreeing much less try to conquer his territory. He spends most of his time in the lake, which to my surprise goes deep and has access to an outside source of water that I have no idea where it leads off to.

His presence has given 'mon in the area, which includes the entrance to the surface and a relative small stretch into the surrounding tunnels, a chance to establish a 'civil' safe-zone nestled in between the tunnels that go up, down and away into the big perilous unknown.

I haven't seen him, but judging by the evident respect used even when jokingly referring to him as Grumpy or Grumpy Old Blue, I am not about to present myself and risk being labeled undesirable. I don't care how mellow he's become, by size alone I'd be considered a future threat, then added on top is the bad rep my species seems to have.

A small bit of luck is that my nest is a fair bit outside what could be considered the border of his territory.

The few acquaintances I have made around the lake-room (a couple of Quagsire, a young Seaking and the Golduck dubbed by others as 'The Last...') are unlikely to sabotage my 'friendly' status and will by courtesy hopefully put in a good word if it is ever put to question.

* * *

As a side note that is a bit amusing; wild 'mon consider towns and areas of human habitation as just another different kind of fiefdom/territory. Which is on the whole quite special considering that humans are outside of what might be considered the natural order.

What does that mean?

The natural order consists of every being possessing our internal sources of energy, beings that I'd say are a part of the SUPERnatural order.

I was stumped to discover that there are animals without energy, normal animals, that are living adjacent in the ecosystem dominated by Pokémon. These consist mainly of herbivores that manage to coexist and not be out-competed like presumably the bigger predators, which are nonexistent, have been.

Hence humans are somewhat outside of the natural order in their lack of internal energy, but they are still a presence that is considered relevant in aspects like owning territory. Though they aren't usually the ones regarded as the area's leaders.

When Mama Bear went out hunting it was predation on elk that was her usual game and what she'd bring back as Nibbs main fare. Not that his diet didn't consist of other stuff, bears are omnivores, Teddiursa are indeed true to the stereotypical honey-crazed Pokédex entry.

There's still the question of what people with psychic powers, like the ones from the games, should be considered; "Humons"? ...he jokes while speculating about interbreeding.

* * *

Back to the cave system, while the Grumpy Gyarados is protective of his territory the radius is relatively short and doesn't cover more than the immediate area around the lake.

It is figuratively just the doorstep into the ever expanding labyrinth built by centuries, probably millennia, of feeding Onix and other burrowers (like me).

If I take a left turn after I exit my nest I am heading into uncharted territory without a benefactor to run to for protection. Which I have admittedly done a few times on my own time, though never wandering too far (something I never told Mama Bear about).

From what I could gather from my lessons and rumors heard around the 'watering-hole' I believe there's a possibility that where the natural tunnels in one cave ends the dug out tunnels may be connecting natural caves from all over. Underground highways that may lead to game locations like Mount Mortar, Victory Road and Mount Moon.

Supposedly the further out into the network you get the more wild and savage it becomes.

The locals have a term they use that sounds quite ominous; THE DEEP!

What's in the deep?

I don't know, but I sure want to find out.

* * *

-Language and customs-

At this point it is probably time to bring some context to all the different titles and different ways things are named. Stuff that I speculate originates from our communication being a sort of mix between empathy and thought-speak.

I was a bit taken aback when Mama Bear was affronted at our use of personal names right after meeting. Unbeknownst to past-me that is considered a serious faux pas.

Personal names and their use is reserved for ones that you have a very close personal relationship with. My internal use of teddy bear, chatterbox, bear-cub, little bear and Teddiursa would actually be considered more appropriate out in open conversation.

It goes back to what Nibbs told me during our first introduction "...She says 'A name is a title describing something about you or about what you've done.'"

Unless you have a close relationship with someone you are to use 'names' that refer to something they are known for or a characteristic that sets them apart.

This means that in pokemon communities that typically number under the hundreds (technically not very big) an example would be:

If someone can be described as 'the female Ursaring that is a mother' an appropriate and customary title would be like my use of Mama Bear or Momma Ursaring or Ursa-Mom... or any variation that makes her distinguishable to me as an individual.  
If there are several different Ursaring with cubs you just add modifiers or simply use some other physical characteristic or personality trait. Size, colouring, demeanor, something they're known for (like their past and their achievements), etc.

So unless you are really close to someone you refer to others by one or more unrelated titles. Your public 'name' can be several different titles that are unrelated, just as long as the 'persmon' is identifiable.

In my old human neighbourhood there was a lady that lived on the back end of the cul de sac who was a bit eccentric and owned several cats. So we called her 'crazy cat lady', 'the cat lady' or 'Madam Fur' on account of the amount of cat hair on her clothes.

Rude and inappropriate in human-society but In Poké-society that's the way it works.

I have yet to reach the point where I've earned the right to use or know the personal name of Mama Bear, even after learning some of her background and having developed an amicable relationship.

My titles so far all originate from my size or way of communicating, I don't know if the superficiality is a compliment or 'depokénizing?' considering I'm easily identifiably 'one of the tyrants' which is something I've heard a couple of times after having first interactions.

'One of the tyrants' brings with it several prejudices and negative connotations.

Common courtesy around here seems to have encouraged the use of 'kinder' descriptives like 'the big anomaly', 'the big wordy one', 'the heavy thinker', 'the oddity' or their shortened forms of 'anomaly, 'wordy one', 'thinker' and sometimes just 'Odd'. ..."Hello, I'm 'Odd'."

Funny thing about the way we communicate is that things you don't have a basis or context to understand makes you fill in the blanks with what's sometimes nonsense.

Other times...

I got really tickled when a Phanpy called me something that in my head got translated to 'Shellzilla' or 'Pupazilla'. "Oh no! RuN AwAY! It's SHELL-JIRA!" *Snort*

...

Having someone use your personal name feels very special when you otherwise only hear various titles, which has made being referred to as Hardram by only one person, Nibbs, a soothing balm to my sense of needing some kind of a connection.

I have managed to remember that it should be Hadrian Bertram, not Hardram, but it kinda stuck and now I'm more or less happy with it. It is admittedly weirdly funny. Ram hard - Hardram.

...

The way it works with place-names, historical events and things that are relative and relevant to the species is really interesting.

Like if I didn't have a understanding of the context, then Nibbs use of 'den' would've been 'nest'.

The Donphan on the outside call the cave 'Great Sea Serpent's Hollow' and it basically means the same thing as something like Grumpy's Water-Way to the insiders.

An example is how lifespan seems to make the concept 'long ago' very different for a typically long-lived rock-type and a short-lived bug-type.

...

Actually mentioning typing, I understand its use by humans in the anime and as mechanics in the games.

The reality I've found is a bit different than what I first believed.

I've put some thought into it being a human contrivance that is superficial and inaccurate, yet they do fit and cover several characteristics that allows for quick generalizations to understand strengths and weaknesses in physical or mental attributes, but don't make sense if you consider our energy.

Seriously, what is a NORMAL-type? Is it that their energy is normal or not special? Isn't there anything special about normal-type energy?

How can Pokémon learn moves outside of their typing? Is it possible to change my energy? Is that how I'll learn elemental moves?

TMs should be bullshit, if they even exist in this reality.

I don't have anything solid to back up my gut feeling, but the whole thing feels wrong.

Now that I intimately know my energy and its use I can certainly understand why it earns Pupitar a Ground/Rock typing, but why the hell would I lose my ground typing when I evolve? Is it just a constraint of game mechanics again? Food for thought.

* * *

-The Ugly Side-

With everything I learned about polite society and the expectations of living in a safe-zone the following lessons about other side of life were obviously included.

There are good reasons for seeking safety and order under someone more powerful.

While the energy-less animals are generally more acceptable prey for the decent and 'moral' in the 'mon-population, there are always the bad apples, admittedly more common in certain species, outliers that are violent and predatory far beyond the natural food-chain. Some 'mon do naturally eat other 'mon.

But there are some things that really put the monster in Pokémon, things you'd never find in a kid-friendly game or anime series.

The bloodthirsty, the sadists, the murderers, spree killers and mass murderers...

One example hit close to home.

Semi-Champions that do 'cullings', which is what I found out Mama Bear had been the victim of.

A cub from a different male Ursaring was found 'unacceptable'.

So after a maternal defensive that was little more than a futile struggle against the overpowering might of a newly crowned champion, the now supposed authority of the area.

All she could do was escape to bury her lost one and flee far from the forest where she'd been living for a big part of her early life.

There are reasons to be cautious. This natural instinct to battle and improve is there for a good reason.

That story really set off something in me, Human and Pupitar, I still had some naivete and hidden hopes about a world where everything turns out alright in the end.

...

Power. It all comes back around to power. Power to enforce your will. Power to protect.

I'm still lacking in the kind of power I need to protect what's mine.

It seems like I will be heading into the deep tunnels in search for a teacher. In search of power..

* * *

-On the day before heading into the deep end with no flotation device-

It has been over a week since my only stable fixture in life upped and left me.

I have spent it reflecting on my time with 'the Ursa' and what my reluctant teacher/friend imparted about reality as seen through her lens as an Ursaring.

Some things still seem a bit Farfetch'd. *wink*

What little I've done on my own time over the previous months is some cautious exploration down the left side tunnel from my nest and practicing my sandstorm to the point that I can keep it going as long as I want and still do other stuff at the same time.  
Granted I can't use other energy sinks while actively keeping it going, but simple maneuvering and doing basic physical attacks is easy.

But didn't I have worries about running out of energy!?

Yes, and they were unfounded.

One time when I was spending a night out in the tunnels I decided to keep a sandstorm loaded in case I was ambushed or something during the night. So I fell asleep with charged matter in my chambers and woke up with empty chambers and a bellyful feeling of satedness that I hadn't felt since before evolving.

So after wasting two months of eating I got back into the habit, both because it allowed for an increase in my training and in a small hope that it'd be a way of either speeding up my metamorphosis or increasing the capabilities of my next form. 'Eat big to Get big.'

Tomorrow I'm heading out from the 'Water-Way' entrance room into the deep tunnels. I might stop by topside to take a look at the sun and clouds before I sentence myself to an indeterminate length of time searching for an receptive mentor... teacher... sensei?

Not calling him a trainer, don't like the connotations even if no one else has mentioned anything about humans capturing Pokémon.

It might be that the wild 'mon live in ignorance or maybe it's a case of no functioning capture technology.

The technology in the games and show was a bit Sci-Fi.

Digitizing and storing monsters in balls is just as much magic as my internal energies, so who knows?

Hmmm, if the humans in this world don't have Pokeballs; with no balls to pocket monsters, can we then really be called Pokémon?

'Mon is still short for monster...

* * *

**-A roving sandstorm's musings while remote-patrolling throughout expansive border tunnels-**

**How much of the Creature has dripped into the Human, I wonder?**

**How much Human is left?**

**Has the Human become one of the... what was it Baerna said so many years ago? **

"**One of the tyrants, who seek conflict and leave nothing but wreckage." **

**Did I embrace the Monster and completely let go of the Human?**

**Or did I just embrace the 'Bear Necessities' of Monster life? **

**...to forget about my worries and my strife.**

**Bwahaha!**


	5. Chapter 5 - A Confusing 'Trip'

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. The Rights are owned by the Pokémon Company.**

* * *

**I deliver onto you, my dear readers, a chapter that finally has a little personal action.**

**Hope you have a good read.**

* * *

I feel around my nest for what'll be the last time until whenever I come back, hopefully being a lot stronger and having learnt how to handle myself.

The rooms and tunnels feel like they have figuratively become too small to really allow me to stretch out and continue to grow, so going out into the wider world (hopefully with wide enough tunnels) should be a good thing.

In a small side-room off to the backside of the main room is where I keep my stone collection from my time as a Larvitar, my so called hoard.

They're just a bunch of 'worthless' stones, but they're MY 'bunch of worthless stones' and I feel almost reluctant in leaving them. It's silly, because I have no way of bringing them with me and I KNOW they'd be burdensome and more useless in my travels than they are here, laying in my well-hidden nest.

'_Maybe I'll find some actual shiny pretties to bring back and make a real hoard. I wonder if I could get strong enough to compact coal into diamonds?  
__I wouldn't say no to sapphires or amethysts... Rubies! Must have rubies.  
__And I could go digging for gold, big shiny gold nuggets.  
__Then I could add all kinds of priceless artifacts; fossils, evolution-stones... maybe a bike? I think they were worth millions back in the first games.  
__Yes, a proper 'Hoard' must have shinies... I could get stuffed shiny Pokémon to keep in there. Do shinies come in shiny eggs? Oooh, a shiny dragon egg would be perfect.  
_

_It'd be ironic because dragons have hoards in fantasy fiction, but I don't think they do in Pokémon... hmm, I wonder if dragons are in my egg-group?'_

* * *

...What am I doing?

I'm woolgathering and wasting daylight!

With a last feel around I carelessly tidy my hoard and head for the exit. Time to get a move on.

On my way towards the lake-room I look around the tunnels seeing all the stuff I ignored in my inexperience on my first foray to the outside so many months ago.

Clear tracks of Geodude and small critters like Paras, Sandshrew, and other low level 'mon that I suspect can be found in any cave close to the surface. Some tracks along the middle of the tunnel that are from the occasional Onix coming up for some reason or another.

In my peripheral senses I become aware that there is something observing me, a brief stop and spinning maneuver shows no one openly visible in the tunnels branching off behind me. It's something I've experienced previously around the area, but other than the feeling of being watched and some Zubat screeching somewhere off in another part of the tunnel, it goes away as usual.

...

Passing through the lake-room gives me the chance to say "Goodbye for now!" to 'Goofsire', one of the Quagsire I've become somewhat friendly with.

He's currently laying on his back in the water with his head on the shore, mouth agape and looking especially lazy. He gives off a yawn and mumbles "OK, don't forget to relax a little once in awhile.".

Well, that's about as close to a sincere "Goodbye" you'd get from him.

...

I choose to go for a quick jet-jaunt stopping by the now empty Ursa-den to have a quiet sentimental moment, there I discover that it's already been reoccupied.

A irritable Sneasel is looking back out at me through the opening. "What? You come to kick me out as well? I just got my damn home back and I've already got a 'Dumbo' on my doorstep! What do you want 'disturber'?"

Well that's something I could easily see Mama Bear doing.

I'm not here looking for trouble so I try to be polite. "I'm not here to kick anyone out of their home, I just came by to have a look before heading off on a bit of an journey."

"Well, you've had your look! Get bent! Do us all a favour and journey your way off a cliff!" He hisses out and makes a presumably rude gesture with his claws.

I'm feeling pretty chill, but I'm not gonna just sit here and take shit.

"Who pissed in your fucking breakfast? Be glad that I don't turn your nest completely inside out. It's only sentimentality and luck that saved you from having to dig out a new one." the last part is emphasized by collapsing the dead-end side tunnel on the opposite side of the entrance to the den.

I hear a half-swear half-gulp from the otherwise speechless Sneasel before I purposefully overcharge the jet that blasts me towards the surface entrance and sends the mouthy little bastard flying into what's now _his_ den again.

From behind me I hear a low creepy giggle and the muffled angry cry of a Sneasel.

* * *

-Surface-

Coming out of the opening that surfaces at the foot of Mount Silver I am greeted by the stillness of a slowly waking world, coloured orange by the early sunrise. The trees glisten from the morning dew and fog drifts off the river. The chirping of the early-birds is just starting, the animal calls from the forest, and the soft murmur of far-off rapids add a lively atmosphere to the postcard visuals.

This is the kind of sight I've seen only sparingly so far into my life.

Being treated to such an idyllic morning on the day that I am heading off into the deep, it almost perfectly marks and symbolizes the fresh start of a new journey; rising up to new experiences, broadening my horizons, going away to get a new look on the world, a world touched up by colours I've never seen before. Yes, I have metaphors abound!

This is the last breath of fresh air before entering the darkness.

It doesn't have the impact I thought it'd have. I thought I'd feel reluctant to doom myself to the deep scary unknown. Knowing that I might not have the opportunity to see daylight for a several weeks, months, maybe years?

I thought that it would be somewhat daunting, but I feel at home in the dark, so why should I be surprised?

Taking a look at the mountain rising up into the clear skies shows the signs of its elevation, spring is passing into summer, unaffected by the season's raise in temperature the snow capped peaks reflect the sunlight, making them gleam down onto the valley floor.

Springtime. Spring? What happens during spring? Bears leave their den. Hmm, should've seen that coming. Not that we had much snow even during winter, the climate in Kanto is quite warm.

Why would a Pupitar normally have to consider the comings and goings of the seasons? Bah!

...

I meander through the small meadow heading towards the river. Moving through vegetation is actually quite bothersome, it gets stuck in the spikes along my shell, I can't believe I never noticed when going topside accompanying Nibbs, goes to show that distractions leave second and third impressions feeling like firsts. Give me open ground and solid floors like those inside the cave, at least there I don't have to fight the plants for access to the earth.

When I get to a calm stretch of the river I chose to head up onto a boulder to give me an elevated view down on the water, revealing a reflection of the top-half of my cocoon.

This is the first time I've gotten an outside view of myself.

Damn, I am every bit as impressive as I'd imagined.

There's something majestic about the three-spiked crown sitting above the mask-like plate that houses my head and upper body.

A pair of red eyes, that almost look like they are glowing, peer out through a set of holes.  
Sat above are another pair that almost resemble frowny eyebrows, added with the spikes jutting out from around my mask, I look quite fearsome.

It's the colour that is unfamiliar, my shell is so dark green that it's almost black. I thought Pupitars were purplish-blueish grey or something?

Shaking myself out of my moment of vanity, I make a quick calculation in my head and blast out a jet at max thrust that cracks the boulder and sends me flying into a backflip away from the river. Using a rapid circular-compressed series of adjustments I make my way across the meadow until I have a clear shot at the opening heading down under Mount Silver. Maximum Effort. Full throttle has me shooting directly down into the tunnel leading to the entrance-room.

The journey has begun.

* * *

-Back inside the Caves under Mount Silver-

Having been outside and seen the sunrise I know that, if the tunnel I'm headed down continues fairly straight, I am headed west towards Johto.

I can't remember much from the map, but it's either going to take me to the place with the 'Dragons-Den' or it may be connecting with the dark cave south of the town. Blackwood? Bloodthorn? Something like that.

Almost immediately after setting off the feeling of being observed starts up again. From behind me in the entrance-room the familiar giggle from back at the Sneasel-den rings out.

Instead of stopping and turning around I just decide to brush it off and continue on. For the next hour I just keep ignoring it and instead focus on navigating.

I pause at an intersections to try to divine which tunnel to chose, when all of a sudden a shadowy apparition looms out of a nearby passage.

It zooms towards me screeching a high pitched "Boo!".

I startle a _little_, but I've put my big boy pants on for the occasion, so instead of blasting off like when I first met Nibbs, I try to deliver a deadpan stare to show that I'm not amused. It's not very effective.

Even though this is the first time I've actually seen 'it' I have heard a recurring story around the watering-hole concerning a mischievous 'mon that does stuff like this for the shits and giggles.

Apparently today it is my turn to be the victim.

The Misdreavus twirls around in the air causing her long flowing hair to frizz out around her. The ghostly visage has a set of red eyes that throw me a mean look, but the effect is mostly ruined by the accompanied pout. "Oh, poo! You're no fun! Were you going to leave without even saying goodbye or giving me a teensy weensy little snack as a going away present?"

"I'm sorry, have we met?" I'm not in the mood for playing along with whatever game is in the works.

"Ooohh, so cold! Poor old 'Mia' isn't wanted!"

Instead of sounding jocular or teasing there is a hidden edge of spite in it. Her eyes gleam and the ends of her hair begin to slowly dance along to her words.

"I went OUT of my WAY to be NICE and say goodBYE to 'the oddity' as he's leaving HOME, and then he doesn't even RECOGNISE ME?! I'VE seen YOU almost every DAY.." the rant becomes a bit frostier as she continues "...and you never respond to my sweet little greetings of 'Hello's and How are you's' You just sliiiiide on by poor 'Mia' without even offering a SNACK."

As she started to rant the pearls on the necklace around her neck caught my attention, pulsing purple on every over-enunciation and gradually holding the glow in between pulses, as she finished on 'SNACK' a hazy ray shoots out and hits my eyes.

Before the world turned weird... I heard her giggle.

* * *

-Down the Rabbit Hole-

A swirl of psychedelic colours shifts around to make geometric patterns of dimensions inside other dimensions.

They lead me through a plastic garden to a solitary table holding a huge book.

On the cover of the book the title flows and spirals around into a lizard's eye that winks out an answer to a question I didn't know I'd asked.

With a swirl the world unfolds into a bowling alley where my spirit dives into bowling ball that looks like a Pokéball.

I'm picked up by an entity that resembles an octopus-faced elephant-lizard. He chuckles and throws me headfirst towards the neon-green bowling pins.

My world spins as I smash through the pins and into the darkness of the pit. The darkness lifts and I find myself seated in the passenger-seat of a car.

Not just any car, but a 1971 Cadillac Eldorado convertible.

Somehow I know that I'm currently headed on my way out of Los Angeles, beside me in the driver's seat is Nibbs.

He's now a full-grown Ursaring, wearing a top-hat and smoking a cigar.

He starts coughing and turns on the windshield wipers, then nods his head towards me and says, "Man, put some music on! My heart feels like an alligator!"

Without me touching the radio music comes on and somehow transforms the midday sun into a blood-red moon, and the moon's appearance summons night.

Now we're driving through the desert at night with 'Highway to Hell' blaring out of the speakers.

The stars are way too bright and a 18-wheeler is headed our way on the wrong side of the road...

I jerk my hand over to grab the steering-wheel, but instead of sitting in a car I'm flying next to a goat... who is wearing sunglasses.

The Goat turns its head towards me, pulls down the sunglasses and looks me in the eye.

It has a crazed look as it bleats out:

"Baaah, You're in Bat Country!".

* * *

-Bat Country-

An enormous BANG rips the fabric of the hallucination right off my eyes and I am suddenly back in a cave, being buried under parts of a collapsing wall, with no idea how much time has elapsed.

I can already tell from the feedback of an instinctual pulse of energy that wherever I am, this cave feels new.

I've gone from the tunnel where I met the murdorable mischievous melodramatic Misdreavus and now find myself back in a big cavern, which has a very different feel to it than that of the 'Water-Way'.

'_Buggering hell, what happened?  
...a Ghost is what happened, fucking ghosts...  
Was that a confuse ray or a LSD ray? Whatever it was had me tripping balls!  
Whenever I regain a mouth I'll show that little ghost-type what a 'little snack' looks like from the inside of a pissed off Tyranitar's Crunch!'_

The overwhelming drone of angry screeching, which I can't tell if it's in my head or in the cave, quickly has me trying to dig my way out of the wall.

I'm still a bit woozy and it takes me several seconds before I gather a pinch of power to shove the dirt and rocks off me.

Having freed myself I stop to take a look around where I've ended up. No surprise, I'm in a cave alright... and the goat was right; This IS Bat Country.

...

I'm somewhere in the middle of a room that stretches out in a slack curve with a ceiling that is many times my height, on the far left side there's a shaft that lets in light from above.

The cave is divided in half by a ravine, and I'm on the wrong side.

My entry point is right across from me, luckily the ravine isn't very wide, not so fortunate is the amount of Zubat and Golbat I seem to have disturbed in my less than sober entry. From the way they are organizing for an attack-run I don't think they'll be receptive to a calm and measured explanation, but it's worth a shot.

"Excuse me! Sorry to have come in and wrecked your house and your peace, but I am.."

I am busy dodging.

Being in the middle of the room has put me in the position of being surrounded on all sides with my back against the wall, literally. Without counting to be certain I make a quick estimate that there are about twenty-something Zubat and five or six Golbat bearing down on me.

Leading the charge are the Zubat, they've gathered in a encompassing formation that will give them leave to attack me all at once, from all around me.

Sitting ducks don't do too well, so I dodge in a direction I don't think they'll expect... UP!

I don't get far before I get a crown-full of wind-blades, a series of solid and presumably sharp crescents of air sent by the Golbat that held their position hovering behind the swarm of Zubat.

The attacks unbalance my flight and leave me open for the consecutive hammering of Zubat wings.

They've course-corrected like hummingbirds and my dodge makes little difference.

I can feel the vibrations travel through my shell, but the air-slashes and wing attacks aren't doing any real damage to the incredibly hard shell that easily tanked an enraged Ursaring.

The ganging up however does make me a little angry.

Do they think that they can actually succeed in this futile endeavor? Do they have any idea what they are up against? I could DROWN these scummy overgrown bats with a Sandstorm, I could ruin this pathetic little hole by simply launching myself from wall to wall. I'll KILL the little bastards for even considering that attacking me would end favourably for them.

I focus all my intentions and negative thoughts, package them together and send them out with a massive omnidirectional pulse of energy that irradiates the swarm with palpable negativity which instantly knocks out and makes dead weight of at least twenty Zubat.

Too bad that the Golbats stayed at a distance.

Having time to orient myself I see that we are falling back down towards the rubble-strewn ledge I found myself on before the failed attempt at dodging.

Taking advantage of the coverage of falling Zubat I quickly refill my chambers in preparation for my next move.

I could land and waste a precious second on reorienting myself while surrounded by fainted Zubat or I can do a mid-air evasive maneuver towards a different ledge and risk being open to a new angle of attack from the Golbat...

With a screeching whoosh I open two vents that blow through all of my compressed air to send me plowing through the falling Zubat to the opposing side of the ravine, already pulling in more air to start up the well practiced circular-compression needed for fast repeated jets that'll allow me better control and propelled mobility.

The force of the jets smash into the wall and finishes off an equal amount of bats as that of the blunt impact of my rocketing shell, the accompanied whining SCREECH causes the Golbats and remaining Zubat to flinch, preventing any immediate retaliation.

That's enough time for an uninterrupted redirect that gives me an attack of opportunity where I try to hit two bats with one stone-shell.

The two Golbats that kept furthest to the back are almost able to dodge like the other three manage, almost.

With a thud they go flailing down into the ravine, not too likely to be of any further bother.

Having passed the still airborne Golbat I realize that I've gained way too much speed to be able to get out of colliding with the rapidly oncoming wall. I adjust such that I'll hit the wall at an angle instead of becoming lodged inside the wall, knowing that if I take too long to recover I will be granting the enemies at my back a free turn to charge up a retributive strike.

The averted crash turns into a wall-slide that puts some distance between them and me.

As I regain sight of the remaining three they are all about to simultaneously send three different ranged attacks;

\- the one to the right is going for a repeat of the Air Cutter,

\- the middle one is firing a now-familiar Confuse Ray,

\- and the last one on the left spits out a purple gunk that I'm going to assume is something Toxic.

There's not much of a choice; being poisoned might end up killing me, getting confused risks something similar to what got me here in the first place, and finally the easily survivable Air Cutter.

I shoot forwards above the length of the ravine, my dodge to the right narrowly gets me out of the way of the 'dangerous' attacks and puts me in a position to tank the Air Cutter.

It's at this point I realize that this was a trap and I've just sprung it.

After releasing their first wave of attacks they continued right into a combined triple-blast of brightly flickering projectiles that I recognize as a 'Swift' attack.

While it barely hurts me directly, it stops my momentum and sends me plummeting down into the ravine.

A brief jet of gas flips me around to allow for a small peek above to see if they are following after me, they've closed their wings, so it looks like they are going in for a dive.

Either they think I'll die from this or alternatively I can only assume they are trying to reduce my ability to avoid their attacks.

Cage me down in the ravine and rain hell down upon my back.

That'd probably work with some 'mon, but this might change the playing field in my favour.

The fall will probably hurt, but is not likely to kill me... I hope

Ah, and this fight seemed to be going so well...

In anticipation of a sudden crushing stop I try to reinforce my shell with energy, pushing it towards the bottom and adding an extra layering of the elemental aspect to hopefully make my impact shatter the rock instead of the rock shattering me.

In the last moment before the impact I get a glimpse of two mangled Golbat that clearly didn't survive _their_ fall, and then the bottom of my shell meets solid rock and a loud shattering *CRACK* signals having reached rock bottom.

The built up energy meets the solid floor and is transferred deep into the rock as my heavy body craters and shatters the surrounding floor and walls, this kicks up a dust cloud that covers the whole bottom of the ravine. The energy rebounds back into my shell causing a thrumming vibration that propagates throughout the whole ravine, the walls start to collapse and the resulting rock-slide goes on to bury me under several tons of rock.

* * *

A rock the size of a insect-pupa falling at terminal velocity is only a danger if it hits someone standing directly underneath it.

A nearly 6.6 meter long, several ton, rock-shelled Pupitar falling at terminal velocity is a danger to everyone even if it only hits the ground, the safest place to be is inside their shell.

* * *

I'm shook and hurting pretty bad, but my shell survived and being buried under rock is more of an inconvenience than anything serious.

I seriously hope the rock-slide ruined my pursuers' day, if I'm really lucky I just wrecked their whole house, but more likely I just ruined their basement.

Well, time for round two.

I pump out barrels of energy into the rock entombing me. It's easier to affect softer rocks and soil, but with enough output even hard bedrock has to obey.

I decide to shatter and convert everything around me into a mix of gravel and sand. The sand goes into my chambers and the gravel functions well for 'swimming' back up to the surface.

This time I'm going to control my environment.

I generate a huge pulse of energy to push me up through the gravel, into the air above the rock-slide, and explosively jettison all of my chambers that has by now processed the sand into a mix that will make a particulate-heavy sandstorm. This does cut down on its velocity, but the heavy mix will rob my opponents of sight and make it harder to hover or fly.

When I breach the surface I immediately get the storm up and running, giving me a radar-like look at the layout of the wrecked ravine and where on the new battlefield the Golbat are located.

It seems that one has had the misfortune of getting hit and buried by the rock-slide, the last two now find themselves in a world of sand.

They are being forced towards the ground by the sandstorm which is hampering their ability to fly, consequently they begin panicking a bit at their loss of mobility. It probably doesn't help that with the noise generated by the storm they are now mostly without hearing and their visibility is limited to a few feet.

_'Isn't this an ironic twist to what they probably anticipated would happen; who's the sitting duck now?'_

Instead of going in for direct physical attacks I decide to end this with two moves;

1: first I hit them with an oppressive cocktail of murderous intent which almost grounds them in a near repeat of the dark-pulse that fried the Zubat,

&: while they are stunned I let my energy spread out to flow around and seep into a multitude of stone chunks left over from the previous 'natural' rock-slide,

2: then I do my best to replicate the 'natural' rock-slide by chucking the stone chunks into the air above the struggling bats in my own form of Rockslide.

...It's super effective. They are now suffering under a _crushing_ defeat. They've had a _grave_ misfortune. The got _in over their heads_.

I won our game of Rock, Paper, Golbat... because ROCK beats GOLBAT.

Puns.

Puns are the champagne of victory.

Now the next challenge is getting the hell out of this ravine.

...

I end up having to tunnel my way up in a big sloping spiral that takes me close to the entrance.

As I exit back up at the top I get to see the leftovers from the start of the battle, about half of the Zubat must have survived and fled judging by the dozen dead ones laying around.

The ledges are mostly whole but are missing small chunks that fell down as part of the rock-slide.

Looking down into the ravine reveals that the amount of rock that fell has made the walls slightly steeper and the distance to the bottom a bit smaller.

I did them a favour in redecorating their basement and burying their seniors at the same time, convenient if they ever decide to return.

Well, there's no reason to stick around.

* * *

-Back on track-

On account of having traveled for an indeterminate length of time while hallucinating I spend the rest of the day trying to get back to where I started my 'trip'.

I have no trouble following the trail until the tunnel I'm backtracking through comes out into a big room that looks to be some kind of hub with intersecting tunnels branching off in several directions.

Now I'm back to going off of guesswork.

Four tunnels are too small, so those are out. Five are big enough, but show no signs of my prior passage.

I could settle down for the night and wait for someone to come along that I could ask for directions, but the chances that I'll encounter anyone is low, from what I know these tunnels aren't exactly teeming with life outside of protected owned territories.

I figure that waiting for a day won't set me back much, and even the small chance of not having to go navigating blind will save me from potentially extending my trip by months, if not years.

Bunking down also allows me the time to fill my chambers with sustenance to recover my energy from the days expenditure.

Final preparations for the night is settling down against a corner-wall to cover my back.

Then I allow my body and mind to wind down into a semi-conscious state that'll allow for rest but keep me aware enough not to be caught flat-footed.

* * *

**-A massive figure stands gazing out over a mountain valley painted red by sunrise-**

**Having one's first-time experience of Confuse Ray be performed by a powerful Ghost is not advisable. **

**STAB; Same Type Attack Bonus is a real thing and not being prepared for what's coming makes resisting it impossible. **

**While my mind was far from undefended, taken by surprise a strong Confuse Ray can take a looong time to run its course, a day or more.**

**...**

**This was the first time I deliberately went for the kill, afterwards I didn't feel anything other than the elation of coming out on top, the satisfaction of being victorious. **

**The killing in and of itself didn't bring me any gratification or pleasure.**

**The self-delusion of mentally persisting as a 'human-me in a monster-body' would've had me horrified at my callousness, but my brain made 'me' ignore what my mind hadn't caught on to; they were enemies, and when they no longer pose a threat or a challenge I naturally lose interest and move on without any concern for the trivial.**


	6. Chapter 6 - Odd Ducks

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. The Rights are owned by the Pokémon Company.**

* * *

**Thank you for the views and reviews. It really makes my day and keeps me on schedule.**

* * *

I spent several hours laying out in the open, being prepared for trouble brought with it a tension that didn't allow for more than a semi-restful night's sleep. I woke up to a deserted room and with the feeling of having fed, explaining my empty chambers, yet I was still feeling unsated. Yesterday's activities must have used up more energy than I thought, maybe staying put for a few days to properly refill my reserves isn't such a bad idea. If accommodating my situation by postponing my journey for one day is acceptable, then extending it to two days won't make much of a difference.

I spend the day listening for any activity from the surrounding tunnels while periodically digging evenly into parts of the floor and walls to 'eat' the resulting mass. Throughout the day I hear some rumbling that indicates an Onix is traveling in the area, but actually pinpointing it is impossible with its low frequency and due to the tunnel-openings being spread around on every wall.

During my continual feeding I review the mechanics behind my ability to ingest without any obvious entry to my digestive system. Located at the 'back' of my chambers is a muscle that if I really focus can feel opening and taking in solids when I do something that feels like 'gulping' or swallowing. At first it's something I was doing in my sleep without knowing or understanding what was actually happening.

The first day didn't lead to any encounters, but considering that it gave me the chance to refuel and reflect, I think that taking a few days of downtime now and again is something I'll keep on doing. Seems 'Goofsire' was right, I should 'relax a little once in awhile'. After a full day and a full 'stomach' I go back to my semi-protected sleeping spot to wait for some potential pointers in my search for the 'holy grail', the by now mythical mentor.

* * *

It feels like early morning when I am brought to awareness by the increasing volume of rumbling, likely meaning that someone is closing in on my waypoint. My decision to take a pitstop wasn't a waste after all. Before long the rumbling is revealed to be caused by an Onix that emerges from a big tunnel to the right of my sleeping-corner.

Compared to the one I saved Nibbs from this Onix looks very different. It is probably much older, as its stones look more rounded and smoother than the jagged-edged look of the 'Bully-Onix', its colouring is also much darker than the dusky gray of the aforementioned. The most obvious thing is that it's about twice as big lengthwise.

Emerging from the tunnel it starts making a beeline towards a tunnel on the other side of the room. Before it reaches the middle of the room I am already up and making the equivalent of a throat-clearing sound as I prod its passive energy signature.

"Excuse me, mate! You mind slowing down there and helping a 'mon out? I promise I won't demand too much of your time"

It diverts its course and takes a drifting turn that smoothly draws its long body to a stop coiled up in the middle of the room, the head swings around taking a quick glance around the room before focusing in on my form in the corner. The maneuver has given me the time to make out some details that I missed, instead of looking like huge boulders that seem connected by super-glue, the body is smoothed out so that every segment flows more evenly into the next, giving them a look closer to an actual snake. This specimen's looks really do fit with the term 'rock-snake'.

Having taken a few seconds to give me an once-over it gives the impression of being pleased by my attempt at good manners, lowering its head in the semblance of a nod, it gives a good natured reply in a 'voice' that immediately informs me that this is a female. "Oh, please do take up some of my time, it's always important to invest some time into getting to know a stranger, and what better way to get to know someone than helping them out! You strike me to be one lost on the road of life, mayhap I might point you in the right direction?"

"Such a 'fount' of wisdom and knowledge is indeed worth getting to know, thoughts and words together speaks a truth doubly. I know my desired destination, but I am indeed lost on the road of life. These tunnels can easily turn around on themselves when one only has a vague notion and rumors to go on."

'Fount' seems amused at the transparent flattery and me playing along with her manner of speaking, she seems to consider something and cocks her head. "So tell me a bit about yourself, and then I shall follow as the elder. I assume you are still quite young for a mountain King?"

'_Huh, that's something new. Do elders speak second? Or do they hold the right to dictate the conversation? If this is this a power-play it doesn't feel like one. Mountain king, is that a description of my species?'_

"I am indeed quite young. I have spent all my life living in and around 'The Old Grumpy Sea-Serpent's Water-Way' and on the advice of a friend I have set out to find a mentor to help me reach and live up to my potential."

"Oh, you've been protected by the coils of 'the Cordial Sea Dragon' have you? I know him quite well, you see, I met him many years ago in the 'far-side sea-side' caves of 'Kanto'. I was taking part in a 'Onix' gathering, we have those to try to bring a bit of culture to the younger ones, you see. Make the younger appreciate the wisdom of their elders."

'Fount' is proving to do her new title justice and has gone into the voice of a story-teller. As she carries on I get the impression that she is delighted to have found someone to share some stories with.

"We were quite a bit down in the tunnels in a prepared room that could fit all of us comfortably. Even deep in conversation we heard the commotion on the sea-side opening, and being young and curious I was one of those that made our way to have a look at the cause of the disturbance. Lord, were we treated to a show! You see, at first we thought there was a territory dispute between two 'Gyarados', " she chuckles. "..it was quite obvious that we were wrong, as both of the behemoths were new-grown and had little experience. They had dragged each other into such an enraged state that they were just thrashing their necks into each other, seldomly biting and mostly roaring in each others face. They went on for hours, would you believe!"

I notice as she's gone on that her wider terms for the species mentioned get interpreted into the names I know from the games, I wonder if this is something that only happens with older individuals that have a better understanding of themselves and others? Something similar but of a lesser degree happened with Mama Bear, but I didn't think much of it at the time.

While I was occupied with my internal speculation 'Fount' has continued, "Finally one of them knocked out the other and I'd stuck around to congratulate the winner after he'd calmed down, since then we've met several times and become friendly. Even back then he was quite easygoing compared to others of his kind, it's something that's worked to his advantage many many times through the years, you know, it's easier to gain respect when you can act affable to the unallied."

"Fascinating story and great lesson in one. So, you have seen and met quite a lot of 'mon during your time? You wouldn't know something about a 'body-sculpter that'll take pity on the uneducated' as he was described to me?"

"So that's who you're on the look for? Well, I have no doubt that 'the old charmer' would take an interest in one such as yourself. He's one of those that always will lend a hand if there's someone in need. But he does have an aversion towards, how did he put it... Posers" she titters before continuing "He values honesty and hard work, doesn't care about what you are as long as you have integrity."

"That does sound like the right guy. Is there anything in particular you can tell me about him?"

"What? And spoil the surprise and first impression? No, my dear, that would do you a disservice. Shouldn't ruin your first meeting by too many preconceived notions."

While she says it in a lighthearted way, she is really serious about preserving the genuineness of our first interaction.

"Any chance that you could point me in his direction? I have absolutely no idea where I am or where I should be headed."

"Now that is something I can help you with, but you should be aware that even if you find his usual residence you might have to wait for HIM to come to YOU. You see, he travels a lot, always going around to old haunts and visiting friends. He's not one to be tied down to any single location, but he always returns to his dwelling in the hill-sides close to 'Lake Crucible'."

"That's good to know, but how do I get there from here?"

She lowers her head again and makes a deep humming sound that I can almost feel inside my shell. After ten seconds she finally seems to have made up her mind.

"I sometimes forget that not everyone knows how to read the tunnels and their own place in the underground. There are two paths available that'll lead you to your destination; the most direct is that one over there,-" She uses her tail to point towards one of the smaller tunnels over on the far side of the room."- but considering your bulk it would probably take you much longer having to constantly expand the little tunnel than heading down the circuitous route in the bigger tunnels. Your best option would be to go through the winding paths under the northern mountain-range, the most straight forward and less confusing route sets off down the big one over there." she nods towards the broadside wall and a tunnel that goes of in a totally different direction than the first one, the one she indicated was the shortest.

"Thank you for pointing me in the right direction, but could you explain what you meant about you being able to read where you are and which direction you're going in? Is it something that can be taught?"

At my last question she breaks into a rumbly laugh, "I'm sorry, dear. Our way of doing it can't be taught, you can learn something similar through experience and memorizing the labyrinthine layout of the tunnel-network, but to KNOW one's place and direction is something only one of 'ours' can do. We can feel our location by the fields produced by the earth, every place has its own signature, combine that with our memories being as though engraved in stone; this is intrinsic to every 'Onix'."

...

* * *

...

Our conversation continued on for hours. The flow was directed by asking each other questions, often leading into tangents where she'd share stories and experiences that always ended with some advice or moral lesson. I told her about my early life in the nest, then I asked her if she knew any others of my species, if there was a chance that I'd come across any of my seniors, what I left unsaid was if she knew anything about my progenitors... my parents.

"On the whole I don't know very much about your kind, but I know enough of the lore surrounding you to make some basic assumptions and speculate to try to fill in the gaps. Your kind is very rare. Nature seems to want to keep your numbers low and your disposition can work to separate you from each other. Second thing to consider is life-span, if you survive - you are longer lived than most, a thousand years, maybe more? This directly correlates to low breeding rates, which I can imagine are made worse by being picky choosers when considering mates. Pride and arrogance, hunger for power and conflict, these characteristics are maybe the biggest obstacles; If your mate needs to fulfill criteria that intrinsically puts you at odds with them, like mating rituals based on measuring and comparing power in hopes of finding someone to match their own, what is the likelihood of a successful mating?"

She seems to be unsure of how to continue, maybe uncertain of what my reaction will be.

"I will preface this by saying that this is a generalization, you seem to be a reasonable individual and I am sure there are others, and has been others, out there like you, but there is truth to the legends surrounding the 'Tyranitar'." She stops and gives me a look, as if asking if she should proceed.

"I understand, continue. Please?"

Seemingly satisfied by my affirmation, she carries on.

"I have already said that 'the Tyrants' are rare, but reasonable ones are even rarer. Let's say that all of this occurs, they've mated and produced an egg. Inherent is still the underlying tendency towards conflict, greed, arrogance and a certain narrow-mindedness. All of these are even more pronounced in males, those who are usually more competition-driven in their fights for dominance and territory than can easily be moderated by paternal instincts. While anyone reasonable would see that there are always other territories, any offspring is a future concern to their own power. If someone always has to come out on top, then suffer not the threat to live. A successor can only conquer their territory by winning, and if that means possible 'patricide' then that can't be allowed. Of course, this is wild speculation, but your circumstances makes something like this sound like a possibility"

She's kept a close look for any reactions, but so far I've been speechless and the shell hides my internal shock.

'_That kind of uncompromising barbarism sounds insane and spites nature! Procreation is a primal instinct! The next generation is our way of living forever! A father is supposed to protect the younguns! Is this what I risk becoming? Will selfishness and ego rule over any remaining care and compassion?'_

Sensing that I am in inner turmoil, she continues soothingly.

"Now, what would a Mother do if she has successfully bred and knows the risks to her children? She might run away from her mate's territory to try to find somewhere that she deems safe to hide the egg, having ensured the egg's safety and that it is well hidden, knowing that she likely is being pursued she'll then continue on to lead the father away from the egg's hidden location..."

I am silent. Horrified. Oddly hopeful and slightly warmer inside. She interrupts my silence with a well-acted musing remembrance.

"You know, I seem to remember that not so long ago there was this 'Female Tyranitar' that hastily passed through the High-Mountain area. Only a few days later a raging 'Male Tyranitar' came chasing after her. It's quite a remarkable happening, you know, two sightings so close after another. After all, they ARE quite rare." She ends giving the impression of a small smile.

* * *

After the last revelation we spend a few hours on more innocuous topics, like a few questions about my size(Oh my! So you're still growing? ...interesting), what kind of 'mon I might run into (it's migration season, you know.), how long the journey under the mountain range will take (don't be afraid to dally, dear.), when we might meet again (long lives tend to intersect, my friend) and where she was going before I hailed her (I'm on the seasonal trek towards the sea-side). Finally it was time to part ways.

Having really enjoyed the opportunity of getting to know 'Fount' it is a little strange just how fast I fell into a friendship with the much older Onix. Not only did she see right to the heart of me and greet me without prejudice, but some of the life-lessons and advice she's given will guide and shape me and my future.

Doing my best to give a proper formal send-off I extend out the energy-equivalent of a handshake, "Thank you for a lovely time and conversation, o'great 'Fount' of wisdom. It has been a true pleasure meeting you."

She titters at my formality, "Oh, the pleasure was all mine, my dear. And call me 'Maia', though I do like your inventiveness..."

"Thank you, 'Maia'. My friends call me 'Hardram'. I wish you luck on your travels."

'Maia' chortles as she begins a rock-snake's slither towards her original destination. "Good travels! Bye for now!"

As she takes off she accelerates so fast that by the 'Bye for now' only her tail is left visible before quickly vanishing into the tunnel.

She's not the only one that should get a move on. Onward, to infinity and beyond!

* * *

-End of month one-

It's been slow going so far, moving at a fast but unhurried 'walking' pace and stopping every day to eat and sleep. Finding the right way to go was simply paying attention to the characteristic markings made in the ceiling from the original burrower and wear on the floor from functioning as a main thoroughfare for years (Maia's 'Tips and Tricks' for tunnel travel).

Then there was the other part of Maia's advice; on a long journey every day must be considered as a journey of its own. Don't tire yourself and stop to eat and rest. It will also give you time to observe your surroundings. If you want to learn how to navigate and find your way around, you should try to memorize the paths you travel through and the paths you see everywhere else around you.

My speed was affected by the varying population densities and the underground terrain; going several days between seeing anybody, to suddenly running into areas full of other 'mon, some were peaceful like passing Onix or smaller first-stage 'mon that'd give a quick 'Howdy' and carry on, contra the attack on sight policy of others. By terrain I refer to the various obstructions in the main tunnel or having to find the right tunnel out from a couple of wide expansive rooms and natural caves that otherwise had small openings (like cracks or holes) towards the surface,

I've fought more of the Zubat-line than any other, but interspersed are Rattata and Raticate, a Geodude that claimed that I 'ate his friend'(I most certainly did not!) and one incident with a Machop that kept trailing after me trying to convince me to let him 'lift the strange rock-tortoise!' Rock-tortoise... all brawn and no brains that one.

But the decidedly STRANGEST encounter was when I came across a 'mon fanatically bent on spreading his new-formed faith.

As I was passing through an area that was way hotter than any I'd ever run across in my life I was brought to a stop after hearing a strange gurgling call, I decided to investigate and have a look down a slightly smaller tunnel.

Going down the sloping tunnel brought me into a room that was suffocatingly hot. If my respiratory system was anything like a human's I probably would've been dead long ago on account of the gases released from the big pool of lava in the middle of the room. The loud gurgling was coming from a figure stood on an peninsula, it was facing towards the entrance and seemed to be preaching to the lava and to a captive audience of none, well, now there was me.

There was no mistaking the form of the Magmar, its flame body was the brightest part of the whole room, casting shadows all along the walls. Having noted my entrance, it crouched before jumping across the lava-pool and reached out with a triumphant-feeling energy as it started on a revelatory sermon.

"Greetings from the Prophet! I am thrilled to see that you have come at my calling! Soon many more will answer the call! It is through the veil of fire that all shall be blessed by the knowledge gifted from the eternal flame! I am the chosen, the one who shall carry the torch of inspiration and spread its warmth across the world! Everyone shall someday be baptized in the fire, to be reborn and become a part of something greater! It was I that the Fire-Bird chose, I that it revealed itself to, I that was bathed in its essence! I was once a..."

This went on for what felt like close to an hour, without stop or a word from me, until he said that my mission was to 'bring more followers to be converted' then breathed a huge bout of fire that fully encompassed the unsuspecting crowd of one. While the fire was doing very little to my rocky shell, I figured that this was as good of a chance as I'd get in escaping the lunatic, I promptly got the hell out of there.

So that's how I was tried recruited into a cult.

* * *

-End of month two-

I kept going with the same moderate tempo of stopping every day for food and rest, occasionally taking a day off traveling, having pleasant uneventful meetings, and/or fights with cave dwelling 'mon. I really started to get into a rhythm, started enjoying both the good and bad, at first the periodical fights were irritants, but they steadily made me used to the concept of enjoying and experiencing a certain thrill during battle.

Not every conflict I got into was the 'attack/kill on sight' kind, uneventful meetings were sometimes followed by 'sparring-matches', the '_let's have a friendly fight where we don't intend to kill each other'_ kind of fight. In the friendly fights I tried to limit myself against the weaker opponents, often to keep things fair I refrained from using my sandstorm, with how well practiced I've gotten I now consider it a trump card best used when overwhelmed.

When I first regained my human memories constant battling always seemed like a horrible part of this reality, like a pointless show of dominance or something that should only happen if there is a life or death situation. Maybe that was because I had no interests in boxing or other martial arts as a human. Now I've begun to actually look forward to testing myself against others, facing worthy challengers, pounding someone into the ground(all in good fun).

The most noteworthy thing I came across was a small herd of Rhyhorn being shepherded by a friendly Rhydon, the protector of the herd, and for good reasons seeing as the Rhyhorn were so unintelligent that except the bare basics and only being able to focus on one or two things at a time, their average competency level was like that of someone severely drunk. The Rhydon that was the leader would stay on as a leader until someone challenged him or her and stepped in to become a replacement. Usually someone in the herd that grew into their Rhydon-form would sooner or later try, but more often than not individuals would head out on their own and be only loosely associated with the herd, sometimes coming back to visit or to challenge the leader. Others leaving to go challenge the leader of another herd (I surmise to keep the gene-pool circulating).

They were taking a shortcut under the mountains to reach a new grazing area and the 'Protector' kept the herd on schedule while treating me to a half hour 'walking' conversation, he was actually really nice but a little pushy when the talk turned into a recruitment speech. He tried to win me over by telling me all about the benefits of joining the herd, like good company, protection and the occasional good fight. He somehow seemed to forget or ignore that I was an entirely different species, but maybe we are in the same egg-group or something?

I politely declined without taking or causing offence and we amicably parted ways when he started directing the herd into a tunnel that veered off from my path.

I almost think the offer was a cry for help; being surrounded by Rhyhorn that only match your own IQ if you take theirs and add them together, probably the same feeling as being lonely in a crowd. I understand why many leave after evolving.

There's no way I'd get involved with that, though joining a herd would probably have been better than a fire-cult.

* * *

-At the end of month three-

Well, there were no aspiring Cult-Leaders or Shepherds this month. In its stead was a memorable run-in, literally, with a confrontational Wobbuffet.

I wasn't going particularly fast, only using my higher powered jets periodically on the long stretches, when I suddenly felt a bump under my shell and someone cursing me out. Feeling a bit contrite I immediately stopped and tried to apologize. "Sorry, didn't see y-"

Only to be interrupted by what I could now see was a Wobbuffet... facing the wrong direction.

"Who you think you messin' with HUH? Come on! Try that again when I'm ready for it! Come one! Hit me! I dare you! HIT ME! What are you waiting for?! HIT MEEE!"

"Would you quit the bravado, I didn't mean to run you over!" Raising my voice shut him up rather quickly, as he twists around and actually gets a look at me.

"Hoh, Huh, well, you are a bit bigger than I expected, eh, so... Sorry for getting in your way?"

While he recovered from his shock, I tried to start a friendly conversation that went way beyond stilted when I only got my own words thrown right back at me.

"I didn't see you there, no hard feelings?" - "...you there, no hard feelings?"  
"It was nice to meet you." - "...Nice to meet you."  
"What are you doing?" - "What are you doing?"  
"Would you stop doing that!" - "Would YOU stop doing that!"  
"Stop repeating whatever I.." - "Stop repeating whatever I.."  
"Stop or I'll do worse than run you over!" - "I dare you! Come on! Do it! HIT ME!"

Instead of getting physical, as I expected him to think I would, I got mean and used a dark-pulse that knocked him right on his ass and into unconsciousness.

I don't remember much about Wobbuffet, but I know that if they have anything like 'Shadow Tag' in real life then the only way I'd ever be rid of him would be by fainting him.

After that I went quietly, and more than a little amused, on my way. Through what little I'd been able to gather from the grapevine I was getting close to the end of my journey, at least destination-wise.

* * *

-Looking back on the last three months of traveling-

The long circuitous route turned into my own little gauntlet from hell. No, that might be a bit too overdramatic and hyperbolical, it was far from hell, but it was fraught with challenges. I tried to strictly follow the big tunnel 'Maia' said would lead me to 'Lake Crucible', only being occasionally held up or forced by some interactions, friendly and adversary, to slightly alter my course, or sometimes needing a bit of help to course correct after getting _slightly_ lost. I don't know if I should count the fights as distractions or a weird obligatory part of traveling, kind of like seeing the sights and trying the local cuisine.

The traveling seems to have really agreed with me, because I have grown a lot since I started my journey, both literally and metaphorically. I've added a little bit of length and girth judging by how I fit into the big tunnels, on my return journey I might have to go above ground if I keep growing like this. My energy stores have grown and the overall potency only continues to grow as I exercise and exert myself, eat big meals, and rest. It's almost like building muscles, except it's all happening internally, and I even have a similar soreness and pain from the processes going on with my metamorphosis.

If this was in the games the amount of battling and life-experiences I've gained in the last three months would've raised my levels considerably. I've grown in mind just as much as in body. Learning through experiencing new things and figuring out solutions to fix problems and situations, not always successfully, messing up and getting bogged down in misunderstandings and social situations... If I encountered the Wobbuffet in my first month I no doubt would've either hurt myself, killed him, or been stuck with him until he felt HE had won.

Meeting 'Maia' probably saved this whole expedition from becoming a catastrophe. The lessons and advice she imparted in a single day doubtlessly put me on a better path short-term and long-term; on the journey and in life.

What kind of Tyranitar would I have become if I spent months or years in the labyrinths that span under the whole continent. In a state of mind influenced by the feelings of being lost, frustrated, angry, and constantly looking for answers. Sure, I could've made my way to the surface either through finding a tunnel or digging my own, but where would I have ended up? And maybe more importantly; what lesson would that have taught me?

* * *

-Exiting the caves-

I confirmed that I was close to the exit to "Lake Crucible" by meeting and having a chat with two Graveler that I came across when following the natural caves that showed signs of leading to the outside. They were jovial and easy to talk to, so from where our conversation started with the cave-equivalent of 'How's the weather?' we somehow ended up sharing some of our battle-history.

While I mentioned some of the encounters I'd gotten into in my travels, they talked about their fights topside against the 'bugs, flyers, and lifters', then proudly explained how they liked finishing every fight with self-destruct, win or lose, and how that had earned them the moniker 'The Boom Brothers'.

Yes, they're nuts. They use self-destruct, win or lose, self-destruct. How did they train their technique? Self-destruct. The secret, they confided, was post-move technique, how to pull yourself back together. Apparently the secret to surviving a suicide-technique is practice. Graveler can survive being blown to pieces, and they recover by reconstituting.

...I did not know that.

'_Note to self; must train mental-gymnastics to make this kind of stuff seem sensible.' _

Somehow this brought us around to them asking about and discussing my shell. They were rather jocular about it and kept poking me, asking how much it could take, what's the worst I'd ever been hurt, did I ever lose any bits of my shell... they were very shell focused.

Wanting to get out of the awkward situation I figured that I'd change topics, so I asked if they knew anyone that matched my prospective mentor's description, I mentioned that I was looking for 'the body-sculpter that'll educate the uneducated' to ask for tutelage.

They turned a little serious and shared a look and 'spoke' some words amongst themselves before saying they'd make me a deal: If they pointed me in his direction, I had to submit myself to a going-away 'BOOM' to see how my shell measured up.

Being quite confident in the strength of my shell I didn't so much as hesitate to agree, but information first, boom second.

So a deal was struck. They said that "most know about and respect him, 'Lake Crucible' is kinda his territory but not really, because he's friends with the 'Watcher of the Lake', they have some kind of agreement that lets him keep a part of the territory as a permanent home-area, even though it's often unoccupied since he's on the road a lot, that and the occasional trading keeps him coming back to the area often enough that everyone considers it as kinda his territory. He's kinda earned it. Don't know if he's at home, but if you find the place... just hang around? He'll turn up sooner or later."

That was a lot of valuable information that deserves some further attention, seems like they haven't completely blown their brains out with their self-destructive lifestyle.

Wanting to give me a proper send-off they led me up the tunnel entrance to the surface, there they gave some vague directions and took their positions behind me, standing on each side at the back end of my shell

Seeing as this was the end of our exchange I thanked them for their help and wished them a speedy recovery.

***BOOOOM***

I think they'll be disappointed, I wasn't so much sent flying as I was barely pushed out of the opening, but their enthusiasm over my shell might increase considering they didn't leave a scratch, though I did get a ringing in my head afterwards. I honestly felt worse after falling down the Bat-Ravine than from their self-destruct, most likely because the worst part of their attack is the shrapnel rather than the shock-wave.

Judging by the position of the sun I only have a few hours left of daylight.

Being the adventurous sort...

I'm going back inside for a meal and a final night with a familiar kind of roof over my head.

* * *

**-Seated Still as a Stone Statue: Sitting in thought, Swimming in nostalgia- **

**I thought the 'Boom Brothers' were crazy as Self-destruct maniacs, I never considered what they'd become when they finally graduated to Explosion, the 'Explosion-Experts' are no joke.**

**I was lucky enough, note the sarcasm, to witness the birth of The Embers of Moltres. M****embers c****onsisting of species that are able to survive the initiation ceremony of being baptized in fire.**

**I am fortunate to not have been born a Rhyhorn, I doubt I ever would've regained even an ounce of a remnant of my human memories. Though, I probably would've been able to end up with the same name. 'I ram into things, uh.. hard?'**

**It is regrettable that I eventually became too big to venture into the underground on further adventures, maybe just to explore without any specific goal or go looking for treasure. There has to be SOME treasure in an underground labyrinth, right? It's no fun gaining treasure through tribute, not that I'd say no if they DO bring treasure as tribute.**

**Instead of material treasure I got a series of encounters with 'Odd Ducks of the Deep' to add to the collection in my memory-vault.**


	7. Chapter 7 - Lake Crucible

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. The Rights are owned by the Pokémon Company.**

* * *

**I risk sounding like a broken record, but thank you for the views and reviews, they have successfully been keeping me on schedule.**

* * *

Finally, the day has come. I'm bursting with energy, my entire body is aching to begin. I shall venture out of the dark and into the light. I shall head out into the world to obtain something I've been idealizing for months! A teacher! A mentor! Someone who'll make the world make sense and give me the Answers! The Answers to LIFE, THE UNIVERSE ANd everything...

Who am I kidding? I'm knackered. I was so excited about the thought of finding the 'mon and finally reaching my goal that I couldn't sleep on account of the nervous energy and the butterflies in my 'chambers'. Spent the whole night barely napping, waking up and going to the entrance to see if dawn had come. The only thing I accomplished was making myself more anxious. What if I'm somehow late? I might not even get to meet him! Maybe he's gone off on some journey of his own... What if I passed him by in the tunnels? Will he even agree to take me on? What if... No! Shut up, Brain! *Narf*

I didn't get this far by doubting myself. I've got this far by taking things one jet at a time, so take a deep breath, make some fuel, and get the hell out of this cave.

Putting thoughts to action, I blast out of the cave with an (maybe overly) enthusiastic jet that sends me flying past the point where there used to be the remains of two Graveler.

'_Huh, seems like they've already put themselves back together... Wonder if they ever mess up and change parts? "Hey, that's MY hand!", "Hand me my right hand, yes, the one on the left."...'_

In my eagerness I seem to have failed to take into account the outside terrain; the exit comes out in middle of a steep foothill, the exit is amidst a forest, the forest is quite thick and has decent sized trees, and the forest floor has a fair amount of undergrowth.

My flight ends, and my landing ends the life of a half-dozen trees and makes a furrow in the earth and plant-life. Taking a brief look at the damage I give myself a 7/10, good distance but I could have snapped a few more trees fully in half.

After my self-gratulatory moment I take a moment to turn and take in my surroundings.

Since I left my nest in spring, I am currently experiencing the wonder of a temperate summer, or at least I'm guessing Johto's and Kanto's climate is temperate, inferred from the mix of spruce-like evergreens, various broadleaved trees. There's enough room that I might be able to navigate through the woods without mowing down too many trees on the way, and the undergrowth is dominated by thin grass, moss and shrubbery. While the terrain isn't rocky, there are a few big-ish moss-covered stones laying about. There are a few trails leading off into the woods which were clearly made by much smaller 'mon than me, so nothing I can properly follow.

The surrounding forest isn't anything like the idyllic picture I witnessed on the day I set off from Mount Silver; the sun is rising, but its rise is casting the forest in shadow from behind the hillside and mountain. Add in the storm-grey clouds visible in the west, the silence that has fallen over the area, and you get an unnerving atmosphere that tells the 'ominous' arrival of a foreign danger treading into new territory. If there was a creepy violin playing tension-music the horror-impression would be complete, and I'm all about first impressions.

Having finished my musings, I find myself staring down at a pinecone-like 'mon that seems frozen in fear, or maybe my amazing landing has it frozen in awe?

Before I can do more than offer a "Um, h-" it unfreezes spectacularly in a self-destruct that explosively sheds bark-like parts that shred through the undergrowth and blows some actual bark off the nearest evergreen, while leaving me unharmed and nonplussed.

'_Have the 'Boom Brothers' been giving out lessons or Is this kind of self-defence a bizarre cultural phenomenon in this territory?'_

Left over is a much thinner figure that looks to have gone unconscious or is hopefully just 'playing' dead, I can't exactly go over to carefully check, so I'm not really able to tell the difference. Deciding there's not much I can do for the little guy, I leave him be. I've got places to go and a 'mon to see.

Before I get moving I need to know which direction to start heading in, even if it'll be a bit difficult, I am going to climb up into the hillside above the cave to survey the landscape. The talk with 'Maia' taught me that having a plan and knowing a little about the layout of wherever you're headed is much better than just going in a straight line hoping to stumble onto something. I committed that mistake when I set out from the 'Water-Way', a blunder that I'm not inclined to repeat.

As I make my way back up to the cave entrance to find a good place to continue further up the hillside, I'm already starting to see that this part of the journey is going to be much worse than the three comparatively blissful months of 'easy' movement underground. Sometimes being gigantic and without limbs is a little inconvenient; if I was smaller and had limbs I'd climb a tall tree to get a good look around, if I could walk uphill then the vegetation wouldn't be such a damned bother.

I try to use my jets to 'jump' my way up the incline, but sticking the landing without sliding or tumbling backwards is fucking hard.

I hate vegetation, it makes using my earth-carpet technique impossible, it gets in the way and screws with my access to the earth. So I'm cut off from the method of transportation that enabled moving at a slow, careful and silent pace. Whatever flimsy stealth-capability I had underground is gone anyway, hiding my gigantic body is never going to work here on the surface. How big am I now, somewhere around 7 meters and probably weighing in at a couple of tons? I guess I could cover myself in moss and make myself out to be a stone.

* * *

-Look out-

After a long and aggravating hour of climbing I finally reach a look-out spot, a cliff that gives me a clear sight over the treeline. The elevation reveals the enormity of the valley, if that is even the right term, and the lake located in the centre. The whole valley-floor is covered in trees, there are some clearings that I suppose could be meadows or marshland. I can see one river that runs into the lake from this side of the valley, probably water coming down from the mountains behind me, no doubt there are many more water sources feeding into the lake. I think the lake's outlet is on the south-west side, where the terrain and lake seem to become narrower.

It does make me wonder which kind of natural processes made the valley, was it shaped by a glacier, water erosion, or a combination? It is kind of bowl-like in areas so maybe a big impact or some kind of volcanic activity? Possibly tectonic movement followed by water erosion? Huh, never thought I'd geek out over this kind of stuff. This fascination with the landscape might be my rock/ground-type showing, because I don't think human-me was interested in geology.

Even with the dodgy looking clouds this is one hell of a view, untouched nature, no city or farmland in sight, which doesn't rule out smaller human-habitations existing along the waterways, they usually do. 'If you are lost, then find a river and follow it downstream, it will sooner or later lead you to civilization.'

Well, I know my heading. If I go downhill in a northern direction I'll reach the river, following it will lead me down to the lake. Since the territory's Champion is titled 'Watcher of the Lake' I assume that the lake is the central point of the territory, hence the perfect place to find someone to ask for directions. Or maybe I'll luck out and find someone on the way that'll know where I should go to find the mentor 'mon.

I hope I don't have to cross a river or the lake itself, I'm not made for swimming, not that I've ever tried but I am reasonably certain that I can't hold my breath and move simultaneously while submerged under water. 'Jump-Jet Pupitar goes over water, not under.'

I wonder if I could hold my breath in one chamber and use the others to circulate the water through my system to propel me forwards... if the experiment works I'll be 'The Amazing Water-Jetting Pupitar', if it doesn't I'll be 'The Darwin-Award Winning Pupitar'.

Since I'm going to be attracting attention no matter what I do, I might as well save some time and do my descent in style, destructive style. I fill my cambers to capacity, compress until it hurts, and then I launch myself off the cliff at an arch that maximizes my aerial travel distance. I'm sort of a speed-freak, I have full confidence in my shell's ability to take the punishment and this stunt is oh-so-satisfying. The air-time, the speed achieved during my bouncing tumble-slide down the hillside, the havoc visited on the unfortunate plant-life, and being able to look back at the destruction and proudly think 'I did that'.

After several minutes I roll to a stop in a ditch at the bottom of the hill, I wait a minute for the dizziness to go away and then I'm ready for moving on towards the river.

* * *

-Making inroads to the River-

Moving through vegetation again, oh joy! Navigating through the woods is really slow when you have to brute-force your way forward. The trees prevent any clear lines of travel, the underbrush gets in the way, the cushioning from the decomposing organic matter and moss causes me to sink under the pressure of my weight. I'm forced to apply the same jump technique I used to climb the hillside, at least here I don't risk falling backwards and undoing too much of my progress, but the amount of obstacles makes my route zigzag, so the distance I have travelled and the direct distance covered differ by a lot.

I am a bit mystified as to the lack of 'mon in the area, you'd think there'd be tons of bugs and birds to stumble over. Then again, I am being a little loud, making a racket might keep some of them away from sight. Or maybe they're camouflaged and I'm just terrible at spotting them, my field of view is pretty limited through my eye-holes.

When I land on the crest of a small rise and stop to locate my next landing target, I suddenly get the feeling that I'm being watched.

Turning my shell a bit to the left I get a long-distance look at a weirdly tiny giraffe standing halfway hidden behind a bush, it's got a yellow colouring and a pair of white horns, it's not too big of a leap of logic to deduce that it is the palindromic Girafarig from the second generation games. When it realizes that it's been spotted it turns tail and runs away far faster than I can follow, though it did give me a view of the dark back-end with the creepy second head.

Well, that's annoying. How will I ever find someone to ask for directions if they either blow up or run away as soon as I get a look at them?

The upside is that my turn to the left brings with it the sight of a small stream behind the spot where the Girafarig stood, in other words, a perfect guide towards the river I plan to follow to the lake.

Crossing back and forth across the stream in a zigzag eventually brings me to the river, at this point the sun's position indicates that it's passed midday, and I am starting to feel kind of tired and hot. Taking a break sounds like a good idea, so I choose a spot to 'lay down' under one of the big trees and take it easy for a while. With the humidity and unfamiliar pressure in the air it wouldn't surprise me if there's a thunderstorm brewing. If it's going to rain I might just consider clearing away some grass and digging out a bit of dryish soil to get a meal in before everything gets too wet.

* * *

-Watcher-

During my mealtime I am interrupted by the sound of flapping wings and a big gust of wind that signals the landing of the biggest bird I've ever seen, upon identifying the type of bird I'm certain that announcing its presence with the noisy landing was intentional and a way to gain my attention.

The bird is standing on a tree-branch that seems to be suffering under its weight, it has puffed up its feathers and is watching me with keen eyes. It has brown plumage and there is a darker brown triangle-pattern of feathers running down its chest. On top of its head are a pair of cream-coloured feather 'horns' that connects like an eyebrow with a short spike in the middle that forms a fork above the ring-patterned feathers around its red eyes. Under its beak is a long cream-coloured feathery beard and the beak is the same light colour as the sharp talons that are gripping and carving into the branch it's perching on.

If I didn't know I was in the Pokémon World I'd say that I'm looking at some sort of strange abnormally sized Eagle Owl, but the impressive bird is clearly a Noctowl, with the long beard it looks to be an old one at that.

Reaching out to me with an energy that feels like aged authority he speaks with a clear dignified voice that reminds me of a Shakespearean actor. "Your harsh entry and destruction of the environs has sent a multitude of the inhabitants in my domain fleeing, many have come to notify me of the disturbance, to apprise me of an unknown threat invading and bringing devastation to my territory. I am normally very tolerant of newcomers, but as I have been awoken in the middle of the day to come assess the situation and, if necessary, deal with it, I will give you one chance at explaining why you have come here and what your intentions are."

Good news, I found someone to ask for the body-sculptor.

Bad news, I possibly already pissed off the Lake's 'Champion', no, there's no 'possibly' about it, I have undoubtedly pissed off the 'Watcher of the Lake'.

To salvage the situation I'm going to have to speak plainly, to boldly lay all my cards on the table, maybe try for some eloquence? Fortune favours the bold, right? Eh...

"Greetings, 'Champion'. I bear no ill intentions towards you or any of yours. My motives carry no intended harm upon any being in your territory, not even the 'animal' population will suffer any harm from my predation as my diet is rather earthy. My purpose, the only reason I have come here, is in search for tutelage under a 'mon that I was advised would 'take pity on the uneducated' in hope that he'd give me some guidance, knowledge about the world and myself."

During my explanation the Champion's appearance has reduced in puffiness, and he tilts his head as I take a moment to select my words for explaining why I'd come HERE to look for a prospective teacher.

"I set out from 'The Old Grumpy Sea-Serpent's Water-Way' on the advice that I had to go into the deep tunnels to find '_him_'. Eventually I encountered an old 'Onix' who helped narrow down '_his_' location and she, with great certainty, said that my quarry could be found in the area of 'Lake Crucible'. So after three months of travelling through the underground labyrinth I arrived here, after exiting the caves I've found that my mobility on the surface is much hampered by the plant-life, causing me almost as much grief as I in turn visit upon it."

While talking, I am slightly distracted by the Noctowl's head tilting, its head has gone from Left to Right and back again several times, changing directions every time a new piece of information is revealed.

With his head still tilted he interjects with a question that demands something more specific. "And whom is it that you are looking for?"

I get the feeling that he's already considered and made up his mind about my future status, the question is there only to punctuate his thoughts and decision.

"As he was titled and described to me, I am looking for 'The Body-Sculptor', who is also 'an old charmer'."

The Noctowl bobs his head, hoots out a strangled laugh, then gathers himself and relaxes his 'ready-to-attack' posture to one that says 'tired and resigned'. "You're going to cause me all kinds of headaches and I'm certain I'll regret it, but seeing as you've come this far I will grant you a right for accommodation until his return, as long as you don't become a problem. If he is agreeable to your overture, you can stick around, if not... you can still stay, if you have caused no trouble and found a place to fit in amongst our community. That is our accord, do you concur?"

I'm a bit confused, but the message is clear. "Yes, thank you for the hospitality."

He hops off the branch and glides down to land in a tree closer to my position. Seems like the serious stuff is out of the way.

"As you might've guessed by the often used name, 'Lake Crucible', we are quite used to all kinds of disturbances, the difference in those cases being that those disturbances are caused by known quantities. Lake Crucible is a mixing-pot where all kinds of 'forces' interact to shape and change each other. Life is all about change and development, so here I facilitate the meetings of minds and bodies. Be that through interacting in conversation or battle."

This is an introductory speech and not a conversation, because he continues before I can even think to respond.

"The significant detail that caused your entry's disturbance to require the response of _me_ coming out for a little talk was the first impression formed from your perceived behaviour. The din of destruction as you 'mindlessly' felled trees and tore up the forest while 'running off' the locals. Now that I see and know the real circumstances, your form's difficulty in advancing through wooded areas, I will make sure to spread the information concerning your 'disability' to not cause havoc all around you. However, please try to keep the wreckage to a minimum. "

With the swelling of energy that accompanied the 'Please', I can tell that it wasn't a polite or courteous 'please', but more of an ordered 'Please'.

_'I say, did he just call me disabled?! I find my predilection towards breaking stuff charming and a bit funny. It's not my fault that everyone doesn't share my...'_

"If you follow the river you'll come across the central meeting area, there I shall have sent someone to bring you to 'Indulger's abode, and further inform you of the codes of conduct that you will be expected to follow while staying in my domain. Once you have settled in, I might take the time to come over for a talk, you _are_ quite the oddity."

Without waiting for an answer the Owl Pokémon takes off with a massive beat of his wings. The weather chooses to aid in his dramatic exit by adding in a flash of lightning, shortly followed by the rumbling of thunder.

Well, that went better than I expected. I now have permission to stay in the area indefinitely and I don't doubt that _what_ I am didn't play a factor in his decision; being a friendly specimen of 'one of the tyrants', or it could be my size that he was referring to, both make me interesting enough to keep around as a novelty-piece. Oddity wins the day.

While he didn't give me a time frame to make it to the meeting area, I think I should start heading downriver right away.

Almost right away. He did disturb my lunch.

* * *

-Downriver-

I thought that following the river was going to make my journey to the lake easier, while it helps me to navigate, the tree coverage on the riverbank is much thicker and the bends in the river bring an uncertainty to jumping too far without seeing if the landing area is 'safe', this has slowed me down considerably since I don't want to stray too close to the river. I don't know if I'd survive falling into the water, so for safety's sake I have moved my traversal a small distance into the forest, just enough that I can still hear and occasionally see the river.

An hour after my lunch-break it starts to rain, as if I needed things to get any more difficult. The rain drowns out the sounds from the river and reduces the visibility enough that judging my jumps gets even harder. Fuck it. I'm taking shelter under a couple of trees to wait out the rain, not that it'll stop me from getting any wetter, but it'll keep the drumming on my shell to a more tolerable level...

At least this proves that I don't disintegrate, melt or experience pain when I get wet, so my type-weakness has to have something to do with my aptitude _in_ water. When I get situated and get some 'free' time I'm going to take the opportunity to figure out if taking a dip into or under water will kill me, then depending on the result I might be able to find some way to swim or at least not sink and drown.

...

When the storm finally passes, taking the clouds and the rain with it, I continue downriver. After jump-jetting for several hours I'm starting to get tired again, while my endurance is quite high from being 'on the road' for three months, the extra effort needed for travelling in this kind of terrain is really kicking my ass. I can't imagine how I'd be able to keep a Sandstorm ready and still be able to travel like this.

Being tired and seeing no sign of the lake makes me decide to call it a day despite my night-vision making travel by night possible, there is no reason to kill myself rushing to get there, only to find myself unable to follow whoever is in charge of greeting me and leading me to 'Indulger's abode.

'Indulger', what does he indulge in I wonder? Or maybe he indulges others? Fitting for a mentor!

Finding a dry spot is impossible, so I take leave to wreck a part of the small clearing I've stopped at, I decide to make a 'bed' by jumping into a copse of trees and laying down on the broken remains to avoid sinking too deep into the soggy ground.

That night is my first time sleeping under open skies.

I don't know what made me flip over on my back but it allowed me yet another first when I am treated to the grand majesty of a star filled night sky untainted by light pollution.

Looking up at the awesome display of the galaxy certainly has a way of putting things in perspective.

I'm a small rocky being, on a big speck of earth, in a vast ocean of stars.

* * *

-Meeting the Guide-

The next day dawns with clear skies and I set off as soon as I wake up, no cloud cover and sun might make the day uncomfortably hot, so it's best to get a move on.

By midday I reach the meeting locale, it's a big open area where a stretch of the stony lake-shore is met by a cleared out grassy area where most of the trees looks to have been felled several years ago, with some big old trunks still lying around. The only trees left standing are several oak-like trees that are wide and open with several limbs that look perfect for birds to perch on, something I can tell by the fact that there's currently a bird perching on one of them.

Of course the Noctowl would send out one of his own, a Hoothoot standing on one foot, it looks at me and exaggeratedly blinks a couple of times, seemingly lost for words. It has large red eyes encircled by black feathers that look like a mask with two clock-hand eye-brows/horns sticking up from it. Its feathers are mostly brown while its underbelly is cream-coloured.

It hoots a couple of times in bafflement before flying down to perch on a log lying on the ground in front of me. It takes a moment before I feel the prod of energy which reveals that the owl is a female, young-ish with an undercurrent of deep curiosity and irritation.

"He never said that you'd be this huge! Losing some sleep is almost worth it for the sight alone! By the way, YOU'RE LATE! I've been waiting here for over half a day! Since I was told to 'not fly off or get distracted' I couldn't even go off to catch something to eat!"

So that's how we're doing this, no pleasantries, fine, I can do passive aggressive.

"Hello, some people call me 'Odd'. Nice to meet you. Fine weather we're having. Those trees are quite impressive, they look old and sturdy. Did you know that forests tightly packed with trees are a nightmare to traverse when you're as big as me, then there's the rain that made the ground all soggy and slippery, it can really limit how fast you're able to go when every jump risks you getting stuck and sinking into the ground, it really limits your movement speed, you see."

I can tell I've succeeded in my attempt at explaining myself without apologizing when she bobs her head and lets off an apologetic and sympathetic hoot at my roundabout almost-apology.

"Sorry, I didn't consider that you'd be so hampered. You can call me 'Loopy'. I'm the lucky gal appointed to be your initiatory guide-tour-leader-'persmon'! I know all the stuff and how it works! You'll find that I am the best and only source of information that you'll ever need! Now before we begin, what ARE you?"

As the 'All-Knowing One' ends on the question she leans forward, her eyes flash and gain a faint glow as she begins hopping around to inspect me from all sides.

The hopping goes on for over a minute, and I answer the first question as simply as I can.

"I'm a 'Pupitar'"

This sets off an avalanche of questions that go back and forth from 'what' questions to 'why' questions: "What's a 'Pupitar'?"-"What does that mean?" - "What's a rock-pupa?" - "Why do you call it that?" - "Why is it a rock/ground-type?" - "What is a type?" - "Why is it GROUND and what makes it ROCK?" - "Then what am I? Why?" - "...Why? What? Why? Why? Why?"

When I notice that the shadows from the trees start to lengthen I decide that the Q&A session has gone on long enough and I'm going to have to remind 'Loopy' what she's actually here for. With a contrite and embarrassed hoot she hops back onto the log and proposes that she'll fill me in on the codes of conduct while on the move.

Then she takes off flying, leaving me to wonder how long it'll take her to realize her oversight. After little over a minute she's back and looking impatient, until I again point out the limits of my mobility.

'_I bet the 'Watcher' knew what he was setting me up for, the title 'Loopy' certainly suits her.'_

* * *

-The Trip and The Codes-

The trip took two days... TWO DAYS! Two days of more "Why's" and "What's"...

First thing I had to do when we set off was to figure out how to cross a river, it wasn't too wide, so I managed it with a full-powered jet, after which 'Loopy' inquired "Wow, how did you do that?" Which started another round of questioning.

From there we kept on going until we had to stop so that she could go for a hunt and get some sleep, she was quite messed up from staying awake all day. While she was otherwise engaged I used the time to have a meal of my own and a nap.

I was rudely awoken in the middle of the night by an impatient 'Loopy', she'd woken up and decided that despite ME being asleep SHE was ready to carry on.

Travelling in the dark doesn't bother me considering my night-vision, but being commanded by an owl to "Get up, don't dawdle, let's get going" does.

After an uneventful day we finally arrive at 'Indulger's Abode the next night.

The positive thing about all the travel time was that the Hoothoot's penchant for asking too many damned questions had previously been put to use against others, which allowed me to reap the benefit of someone else's irritation.

During the two days she gave me all kinds of information about the area and what to expect from the other 'mon, where I should be careful not to cause too much of a disturbance and where to avoid.

Then she supplied an in-depth explanation about how the 'Codes of Conduct for 'Lake Crucible' functioned in practice. Without there being any 'true' rules and regulations like you'd find in human society it was still impressive how 'advanced' it turned out to be.

I guess the best explanation would be that it is layered, the first layers are simple and can easily be followed by even the less sapient of the 'mon, but if you are of the mind to understand and use the system, you are free to join a reciprocal 'society' where potentially anyone can be a benefit to everyone.

At its most basic it follows the same principles as Mama Bear's explanation of how to act in 'polite' society, but dig a little deeper and the foundation is there to facilitate the 'meeting of minds in conversation and battle'.

So here's a bit of liberal paraphrasing of 'Loopy's rundown on the Codes of Conduct.

The Simple Explanation and The Advanced Explanation

* * *

...

Ethics for Dummies.

Don't Be A Dick.

Respect Others.

No Senseless Violence.

...

The Keystone of 'Watcher's Philosophy and Cultural Practice.

The Principle of the Crucible is to share of yourself to promote and influence growth and development;

Of the mind, through the sharing of knowledge.

And the body, through the growth and development of your own capabilities and in competition against those who are willing.

Through concentrated interaction both can be accomplished.

Mastery comes from Community.

...

'**Come together to Live together to Talk and Fight together to Learn together.'**

* * *

Apparently many years ago 'Watcher' and 'Indulger' met and after exchanging their views through 'verbal' discussions and 'physical' discussions (combat), they decided to combine their values and principles, together they would go on to conquer the Lake-territory as partners and afterwards made it 'official' that everyone under their umbrella had to adhere to their principles, values, and rules of behaviour.

They had a hell of a time achieving it, because the preexisting Champion was a 'Sea-Dragon', even nowadays the whole area periodically gets an influx of newly-grown 'Sea-Serpents' that have to be kept in line. After defeating the Champion they had to subjugate the population of the surrounding valley before they could properly enforce their rules.

Once they had won over the inhabitants the Noctowl took on the main role as 'Champion' and the 'Indulger' took an advisory role and serves as reinforcement whenever needed.

This part of the story more or less confirmed my suspicions, 'Lake Crucible' is in fact 'The Lake of Rage' from the games. I thought that lake was made by the Gyarados or something, but there's no way any amount of Gyarados could've somehow make a lake this big by throwing a tantrum and blowing a crater into the ground. I think this is another example of the games fudging the details and context because they were limited to only showing a little piece of it, kind of like the cave systems underneath the over-world.

* * *

-Parting Ways-

'Watcher' had apparently told her to bring me close to 'Indulger's area and leave me to my own devices, so 'Loopy' brought me to the 'border' of his part-time territory and pointed out the general direction where the 'Indulger's Abode' was.

She gave a well-wishing-advice/warning before _finally_ leaving me alone, the 'Mouthy Owl' advised me to find his place and set up my own area somewhere nearby. "...sharing is caring, but don't share the space, you're more likely to crush something or someone, and if you want any chance at convincing 'Wisdom's Ally' to ever mentor you; don't destroy his home or desecrate its vicinity!"

The first time I heard her refer to the Champion as 'Wisdom' I had a moment of inspiration and dubbed the long-bearded Noctowl as 'The Wizard', 'Gandalf' and alternatively 'Merlin', though the stories about their partnership seem to suggest that the 'Indulger' is the one who plays the role of Gandalf or Merlin, considering his position as an advisor.

Anyway, I've spent the last few days constantly on the move and I'm starting to feel the backed up toil of keeping up with a flyer that regularly 'forgets' my much more strenuous and tricky means of transportation. Though, I admit that I powered through because of my own impatience, both to finally reach our destination and my patience concerning the owl running out... being respectful is in the fucking rulebook, can't lose my temper against a possible relative of 'The Wizard'.

After she leaves I take a few blissful minutes to enjoy the feeling of being alone again, then I shelve the idea of beginning my search in the middle of the night, instead I'm going to bunk down on the spot and get a few hours of sweet uninterrupted sleep. Hmm, yes, letting my internal muscles rest for ten or so hours sounds wonderful.

No inquisitive harping or chattering to ruin my sleep. Just the quiet sounds of a slumbering forest... and the slowly increasing drone of angry insects.

*BUZZ*

I am so not in the mood.

* * *

**-Reflections while picking my teeth with a tree trunk-**

**I guess there are several life-lessons I learnt on my own without a teacher. **

**Apparently leaving a trail of destruction attracts attention, like ringing a door-bell, they have to come to the door to make you stop. Why come to them when you can have them come to you? **

**Even the bad kind of attention is good attention if you have good intentions, but at the end of the day, if you have pissed off someone with power over you they'll make sure you suffer for it... which brings me directly to my next lesson:**

**Some Owls make for miserable travelling companions. **

**Let's see... What else?**

**You only need to cut a tree once, it won't suddenly regrow if you leave the area and come right back... the games lied, they LIED!**

**I never needed the move 'Cut', I developed my own equivalent of the move to suit me as a Pupitar, I called it my 'Brute-Force Jump-Jet Deforestation-Technique!' **


End file.
